


(on a midnight run) well there might be trouble

by Fives (janfives90)



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: F/F, featuring the 1920s now with no homophobia or racism, it's like magic you guys, speakeasy au, warnings: implied abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janfives90/pseuds/Fives
Summary: Their new lounge singer is the prettiest woman Emma has ever seen. She’s in a soft blouse and knee-length skirt under a wool coat, with Mary Jane shoes over thin stockings and a cloche hat pulled down over dark hair. She’s smiling as she talks to Angie, and when she laughs it’s a sound that cuts straight through the room and into Emma’s soul.or,1920s Speakeasy AU





	1. the world always welcomes lovers

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Apples and Bees_ **

****

* * *

“Hey! Angie!”

Emma Nolan glances over at the entrance to the Broadway Bar, only half paying attention as she mixes a sidecar. She sees apartment manager Sheldon Saperstein in the doorway, looking irritated as he talks to their head of entertainment, Angie Dickinson. She loses interest before she sees the person standing behind him, and as he leaves, she picks up a glass and turns to the man standing next to her.

“Any idea what that was about?”

Bar manager Barry Glickman shrugs. “Probably the new girl Angie hired. You know how fond she is of giving them as little information as possible.”

Emma snorts. “And how much Sheldon hates that. I bet she didn’t give the new girl the password, just to see how well she’d be able to get in without it.” She turns back towards the floor, where Angie is escorting said new girl in.

And she drops the glass she’s holding.

Their new lounge singer is the prettiest woman Emma has ever seen. She’s in a soft blouse and knee-length skirt under a wool coat, with Mary Jane shoes over thin stockings and a cloche hat pulled down over dark hair. She’s smiling as she talks to Angie, and when she laughs it’s a sound that cuts straight through the room and into Emma’s soul.

“Shit,” she whispers.

“Hey, kid, what are you throwing glass around for?” Barry grumbles, grabbing a towel and pushing her to the side out of the way so he can start cleaning up.

“She’s…”

Barry looks up and follows Emma’s gaze, then sighs. “Oh, you’re doomed. Do you want me to start writing out the wedding cards now? You only have like six people you’d invite, so as long as she doesn’t have a big family, it shouldn’t take me that long to do.”

Emma aims a kick at his shin. “Would you _shut up_? Angie’s bringing her over here, and you’re going to-”

“Hey, Emma!”

Emma pales and snaps to attention, so quickly that she drops the shaker, only just barely managing to avoid spilling the sidecar all over the counter. “Er… Sorry.”

The new girl smiles at her, and Emma feels her heart surrender to her like a traitor. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to distract you from what you’re doing. Angie just said I should introduce myself.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Alyssa. Alyssa Greene.”

“E-Emma,” she stammers as she accepts the handshake.

It lingers a moment too long, and Emma pulls back a bit more quickly than is polite, blushing.

Barry stands up, dumping the shards of glass into a trash bin before holding out his own hand. “Barry Glickman, bar manager. Good to have you aboard. New faces are always a pleasure around here, even if my _colleague_ here is a clumsy doofus.”

Emma pushes him. “I’m not the one who spilled our best whiskey because he was busy singing along to the last performance of the night last Saturday.”

“No, you’re the one who broke a table _and_ your ankle because you wanted to see if you could stand on it and jump from it to the top of the bar.”

* * *

As the two behind the bar continue to bicker, Angie rolls her eyes, grabs a martini, and leads Alyssa away. “Don’t mind them. They love each other, trust me, they’re just stupid.” Barry ruffles Emma’s hair a bit more roughly than would normally be affectionate, and she adds, “Seriously, Barry’s the nicest guy in the world. He’d do anything for that kid. He just also loves teasing her until it drives her insane.”

Alyssa watches as Emma ducks out of the way of Barry’s hand, laughing and grumpily shoving at his arm. She leans over to Angie with a frown. “Is he Emma’s dad?”

Angie chokes on her martini and laughs for what feels like five minutes. “Oh, honey, no. Just because they’re both gay doesn’t mean they’re related.”

Alyssa freezes, stopping dead in her tracks and staring at her. “They’re both gay?”

“Yeah. So is Sheldon. Trent _might_ be as well, but it’s possible that that’s just a theory based on the fact that he refuses to shut up about the week he spent at Juilliard before he was kicked out.” Angie grips Alyssa’s shoulder. “It’s _very important_ that you remember that he was _kicked out_ , because he _will_ insist that he left of his own accord because it just wasn’t the right fit for him. We can’t let him forget that…” She trails off, noting the stunned look on Alyssa’s face. “You’re not… _bothered_ … that they’re gay. Are you? Because I have to say, Alyssa, we can accept a hell of a lot of things here, but that’s one thing we aren’t going to put up with.”

Alyssa, lost in thought, snaps out of it with an embarrassed flush. “What? No. No! I-I just… I guess I just have never really… been anywhere that talks about stuff like that… so casually?”

Angie shrugs. “They are who they are. That’s what we do here. Everybody is who they say they are, and nobody’s going to question that.”

Alyssa feels her gaze pulled over to Emma, in her button-down and waistcoat, competing with Barry over who can flip their respective drink shakers higher without dropping them to playful applause from tipsy patrons. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmurs.

* * *

Emma leans against the side of the bar, wiping down a glass she just cleaned, watching as Alyssa steps out from backstage.

She’s changed into one of the performer’s dresses. Ankle length, beaded and shiny, her hair held back with a matching headband, heels.

“Wow,” she whispers.

* * *

Alyssa steps up to the microphone, her hands shaking, trying to ignore all the people staring at her. She glances over at the bar and notices that Emma is watching her too, fingers gripped a bit too tightly around the glass in her hand.

When she catches Alyssa looking at her, Emma blushes and gives a small nod of encouragement.

For a reason Alyssa can’t possibly begin to explain, the simple motion settles over her, calming her nerves and settling her confidence.

She grips the microphone, takes in a breath, and nods at the piano player, Tom Hawkins, to begin.

_< Moon river / wider than a mile / I’m crossing you in style / someday>_

* * *

“She’s good,” floor manager Dee Dee Allen says, taking a sip from her mojito as she sits with Barry and Angie at the back of the bar.

“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Barry says with a smirk, nodding at Emma, who’s watching Alyssa sing with an awestruck look on her face.

“They’d be cute together,” Angie comments as she eats an olive.

Dee Dee rolls her eyes. “They’ve known each other for all of five minutes, and you know that already?”

Angie shrugs. “Call me a romantic. Or, you know, someone who has _eyes_.”

“There’s really only one problem with your plan, Ang,” Barry comments mildly.

“What’s that?”

“You really think Emma’s going to work up the nerve to do anything about that crush she’s got written all over her face?”

Angie groans and rests her head down on the table. “Barry, go get me another martini.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern music? In my 1920s? It's more likely than you think.


	2. i've laid awake the whole night through

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Zazz_ **

* * *

Alyssa sits in her dressing room, anxiously adjusting her headband, and she jumps when there’s a soft knock on her door.

“Come in!”

The door opens carefully, and Emma leans into the room. “Hey. I thought maybe you could use a drink before you went out there.” She shrugs. “Second nights are harder than the first, from what I can tell. You can push through the first night because you want to make a good first impression, but then the nerves really settle in.”

“I would _love_ a drink, because you’re absolutely right.” Alyssa laughs as Emma steps into the room and closes the door behind her, holding out a red cocktail. “What is it?”

“Jack Rose. It’s applejack brandy, lemon juice, and grenadine.”

Alyssa takes a sip. “It’s really good. Did you make it?”

“Barry’s specialty, actually. He says I don’t do it right.” Emma grins and pulls out a chair at a nearby desk, sitting down on it backwards. “I think I make it just fine, but I figured I’d offer you the best.”

Alyssa feels a blush creep up her neck and drinks more to try to hide it. “Well, thank you.” She turns her chair around so that she’s facing Emma. “How long have you worked here?”

“Worked? Since I was about ten, sweeping floors, so… thirteen years? I’ve been around these guys pretty much my whole life, though. We used to be a real bar before Prohibition.”

“You probably have this thing down to a science, then.”

“We have our methods. Dee Dee really has the floor under control, Barry’s always got new mixes he’s trying, Trent – I don’t know if you met him; he’s the game manager – has the gaming tables locked down, and Angie’s always got the best entertainment you’ll ever get in the city. If it’s a science, it’s a chemistry that works.” Emma shrugs. “I’ve been watching it run for over a decade and I still don’t know how we don’t all fall apart, but I love every second of it.”

“What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“What’s your role in all of this?” Alyssa grins. “You ever get up on that stage?”

Emma snorts and dryly says, “Yeah, no. I don’t sing.” She leans forward on her chair and smirks. “Maybe I’m the money.”

Alyssa laughs and drinks more of her cocktail. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Emma fixes her cufflinks and says, “And what about you, Alyssa Greene? What do you want _your_ role to be here?”

“I just want to sing.”

“You don’t have to say that just because it’s what you’re being paid for.”

“It’s true, though,” Alyssa insists. “I have a job during the day. I waitress over at the Edgewater Diner. I get paid fairly decently, but it’s not… It’s certainly not what I _want_ to do with my life. This gives me a chance to do something I _love_.”

“That’s a pretty respectable goal.” Emma cocks her head to the side. “Wait, you waitress during the day and then come here at night? When do you sleep?”

Alyssa shrugs and mumbles a noncommittal answer.

“We can get you a room here, you know,” Emma says softly. “The Madison is an apartment complex for a reason. We want everyone to be safe. If it would get you even an extra few minutes of rest…”

“Thank you. For the offer.” Alyssa swallows. “I’m fine where I am right now, really, I promise I am.”

“If you’re sure?”

Alyssa nods. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Emma stands and slides the chair back under the desk. “If anything ever changes, just talk to me, or Angie, or Sheldon. All you need to do is ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Emma.”

“Of course,” Emma says with a grin. She pulls a pocket watch out of the pocket of her waistcoat and checks it. “You’re on in five. I shouldn’t keep you any longer, or Angie will have my head.”

“Wait, Emma?”

Emma pauses in the doorway, looking back at her.

“I never… I never got your last name.”

“Nolan,” Emma says with a smile before leaving and closing the door.

Alyssa finishes off her drink and pauses, looking down into the empty glass before whispering, “Emma Nolan.”

* * *

“Did you manage to have a whole conversation with her without passing out?” Barry asks as Emma rejoins him at the bar.

She groans and puts her head in her hands. “She’s so hot. And so pretty. And so sweet. And I’m so screwed.”

Barry snorts. “So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“I held it together admirably. But I also am maybe a little bit in love with her, and it’s been three minutes, and-” Emma moans and crumples further on the bar.

Barry pats her on the back. “Mix up a Last Word. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I hate those.”

“I know, but it’ll be a fitting drink for you to make right before you die.”

“Fuck you,” she mumbles into the bar.

* * *

Alyssa walks back into her dressing room and pulls off her headband, sighing and running her fingers through her hair. She can’t help but smile when she sees a fresh Jack Rose sitting on her table, with a note scribbled on a sheet from an order pad next to it.

_I made this one. We’ll see how it goes. You were great! – E.N._

She traces the signature as she picks up the drink and takes a sip. It _is_ different from Barry’s, and she can’t quite place why, but she likes it more than the one she had before her performance.

She’s genuinely not sure if it’s the drink or the person who mixed it.

The lights in her room start to flicker in a consistent pattern, and she frowns, looking at the door. Emma opens it without knocking, and hesitates in the doorway, flustered.

“I-I’m sorry. I should’ve…” She shakes her head and walks over to Alyssa, taking the drink from her.

“What are you-” Alyssa’s words die in her throat as Emma pushes in what Alyssa had thought was one of the circular design elements of her mirror and lifts the entire mirror up, revealing a hidden shelf built into the wall. “What… the…”

Emma sets Alyssa’s drink onto the shelf and hastily tosses the note in as well. “Just in case,” she mumbles. She slides the mirror back down, and, just like that, it’s like there was never a drink there at all.

“How did you… What…”

Emma grins at Alyssa’s babbling and offers her hand. “Come see for yourself. Just… keep quiet, okay? If anybody asks you any questions, you’ve never seen alcohol here, ever.”

“O… Okay?”

Alyssa accepts Emma’s hand and lets her lead Alyssa back into the main room. She thinks she can feel Emma’s fingers trembling, but before she can think much on that, her breath is taken away.

The speakeasy is gone.

All of the drinks on the tables near the stage are gone, replaced with glasses of water and bowls of pretzels. The shelves of liquor have vanished entirely, and now the only thing there is what appears to be a wall. The counter is still there, but it’s been converted into a table top for poker, and Barry is behind it pouring glasses of water and soda and providing Angie with more pretzels to take over to the pool table in the corner. All of the signs with prices for liquor have been changed into advertisements for upcoming shows and poker and pool tournaments, and Hawkins is playing a soothing jazz number while the men in front of the stage flip through newspapers.

“What the hell is happening?” Alyssa whispers to Emma.

Emma squeezes her hand. “I’ll explain later.”

The door from upstairs swings open, and Alyssa feels Emma tense. The tension then vanishes as Sheldon walks in, a huge grin on his face.

“Congratulations, everyone! You’ve passed our monthly test of the raid system!” He gives Dee Dee a disapproving look. “Everyone except Dee Dee, who is clearly still drinking gin.”

She’s sitting on Hawkins’ piano and smirking across the room at Sheldon. “They can pry my gin from my cold, dead hands.”

Sheldon rolls his eyes. “ _Anyway_ , sorry to interrupt, but it’s necessary. We can reset now. Everybody can get a refresh of their drinks on the house.”

There’s some mumbling, but for the most part everyone just gets up and starts putting the bar back together as if it’s all completely normal. Barry lifts up the piece of drywall covering the shelves and slides it back on top of the poker mat to rebuild the bar top, Trent flips all the signs back around to their normal status, and the patrons with the waters head back over to the bar to get more liquor once

“You have… This whole thing is set up in case of a police raid?” Alyssa asks, looking at Emma in shock.

“Yeah. It’s not _perfect_ , but it’s usually convincing enough. Sheldon has a button upstairs that sets the lights off, so if he sees them coming he can give us enough warning we can get this done. We have the timing down pretty expertly, if I do say so myself.”

“I’ll say. That was, what, twenty seconds?”

“We had it down to fifteen once, but there are some new people. Dee Dee probably knew this one was just a drill. She usually hides her gin in the special slot that’s inside the piano.”

Alyssa whistles softly. “Wow. I-I have to say, Emma, this is really impressive.”

Emma grins at her. “It’s a group effort, but we think we do well.” She looks down at their hands, still linked between them, and blushes as she lets go. “Uhm… I-I’ll show you how the shelf works in your dressing room, in case you ever need it, and then I should get back out here and help Barry with the replacement drinks.”

“I’d like that.” She follows Emma back to the room, and watches as Emma counts up a few circles and presses in, then slides the mirror up to reveal the shelf. Alyssa reaches in and picks up the drink and the note.

“I’m sure it’s a little weird to get used to, but it really does help. Does it make sense?”

Alyssa nods. “It makes perfect sense. But…”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “But what?”

“Wouldn’t the police be suspicious of a secret room regardless?”

“There are underground gaming and entertainment places all over the city. They get a little irritated because of the taxes, but all of that stuff is completely above board through the apartment finances, completely legal.” Emma grins. “As long as they don’t find the distillery, we’re fine.”

Alyssa pales. “There’s a distillery?”

Emma leans in a bit and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh, shut up,” Alyssa laughs, shoving Emma away by her shoulder. “Go help Barry.”

“Gladly. He’ll whine at me for the rest of the week if I don’t.”

“Before you go, you should know…”

“Yeah?”

Alyssa takes a sip of her drink. “You make this better than Barry does.”

Emma’s blush goes all the way to the tips of her ears, and Alyssa bites on her glass to keep herself from giggling at the burst of affection that spirals into her chest. “O-Oh,” Emma stammers. “Well. Thank you very much, miss.”

“‘Miss’, huh?”

Emma swallows and somehow gets even redder. “A-Alyssa.” She adjusts her cufflinks again and opens the door, pausing with a huge grin on her face, then closes the door behind her.

Alyssa sets her drink down and sits slowly, gently setting her hand over her heart. “Oh, no,” she sighs.


	3. we might have been meant for each other

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Tattoo_ **

* * *

Alyssa grabs a drink from Barry and heads to the back of the bar, where some of the other entertainers – Shelby, Kaylee, Nick, and Kevin – are set up at a poker table.

“Do you know how to play?” Shelby asks as she deals.

“For the most part. My dad was a dealer at one of the tables at the old casino before it closed.”

“Oof. My mom used to work there,” Nick says as he picks up his hand. “Now she and my stepdad are both housekeeping at those Green Acre Apartment complexes.”

Alyssa hides her wince behind her glass. “Yeah. My dad had to move out of town to find better work.”

Kaylee raises an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t all go?”

“…No.”

There’s an awkward pause at the table that Shelby quickly covers up by loudly tapping her cards on the table. “Okay! Kevin, you have first bet, so why don’t you take it?”

* * *

Alyssa flinches as she goes down twelve dollars. “This is very clearly not my game.”

Kaylee counts the twenty dollars in profit she’s added to her pile. “I don’t know. I think it’s working well for me.”

Alyssa chews on the piece of apple Emma put into her cocktail. “You’re hilarious.”

Shelby snaps her fingers, glaring over at the bar. “Hey! I need another Bee’s Knees!”

“Come here and get it yourself, Shelby,” Emma yells back, sounding tired.

“Sometimes I swear she is the _worst_ waiter,” Shelby grumbles, shuffling the cards as Nick and Kevin get up to get the drinks for her. “She never brings me a drink if I ask for one, even if I’m _super polite_ about it.”

“Well, she’s a _bartender_ , not a _waiter_ ,” Alyssa points out.

Kaylee ignores Alyssa completely and leans in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You know, I heard that she targets the female entertainment. Coerces them into sleeping with her. She hasn’t tried it with me, but I’ve seen her watching the stage sometimes. I even heard that-”

Alyssa slams her cards down on the table. _“Can you shut up?”_

The bar goes silent, and Alyssa feels far too many people staring at her.

“What’s _your_ problem?” Kaylee asks. “I’m just saying what I’ve heard.”

Alyssa lowers her voice, self-conscious, and says, “I just don’t think it’s fair to accuse someone of something like that when you don’t have any proof of it.”

Shelby snorts. “Careful, Lys, you might end up next on her list.”

“Awfully cruel words coming from someone who was making out with Kaylee behind the stage yesterday.”

Kaylee chokes on her gin and tonic. _“No one is supposed to know about that.”_

“Yeah? Then maybe you should watch what you say about other people.”

Shelby narrows her eyes. “You know what, Alyssa? I don’t think you’re enough fun to play poker with us.”

Alyssa stands and shoves her remaining few dollars into her purse. “I don’t think I _want_ to be the kind of fun that plays poker with you.”

* * *

Alyssa leans against the door of her dressing room, her eyes closed as she tries to calm her angry breathing.

“You didn’t have to do that,” a quiet voice says from her right.

She looks over and sees Emma standing in the hallways, hands in her pockets, watching Alyssa with a soft expression.

“Do what?”

Emma gives her a small smile. “I’m no fool. I know what they say about me.”

“Why do you let them? Angie said-”

“Angie doesn’t know,” Emma says quickly, taking a few steps closer. “She can’t, okay? If she did, she’d throw those four out of here in a heartbeat.”

“Wouldn’t that be better?”

“For me, maybe, but there aren’t a lot of places to get jobs in this town. They’re rough, but I believe that they do mean well deep down. They’re just a bit too big of egos to show it.” She shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe someday they’ll learn better if they stick around here.”

Alyssa laughs. “I think you’re far more patient than I am.”

“Nah. I just like the passive aggressive route instead. I’ll gladly deliver a drink to you, or anybody else on that floor, but any time one of them tries to get demanding I just ignore them.”

“I think you might drive them insane before they learn anything.”

Emma shrugs again. “It’s a change.” She glances down at her pocket watch. “Have you seen that door right behind the bar? The one Barry and I go into sometimes when we’re getting more liquor?”

“Yeah.”

“On your next break, meet me by it?”

“Sure.”

Emma pauses. “You aren’t going to ask me why?”

“Why? I trust you.”

Alyssa watches the relief pass over Emma’s face, and she sees the other woman’s entire body relax. “Oh. Okay. Good. Uhm… Thanks.”

“Next break, then?”

Emma grins. “Next break.”

* * *

Emma swings the door open and leans on it, squinting at Alyssa as she stands just outside of it. “Are you alone?”

“Word of advice? Saying stuff like that while you lurk in a doorway might be why some people think you make the wrong impression.”

Emma straightens and tightens her shoulders, bowing her head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. _I_ happen to think it’s cute of you, but I just figured I would point it out.”

She feels the flush on her cheeks, and she turns away in the hope that Alyssa doesn’t see it. “Uhm. Right. Well, if you could follow me and close the door behind you, I’ll introduce you to the _better_ party room.”

“That one is also bad,” Alyssa says as she follows Emma into a short hallway.

Emma swings her head around, irritated, but her words of retort die on her tongue when she sees the humor in Alyssa’s eyes. “Keep poking at me and I won’t give you the private tour.”

Alyssa laughs. “I’m not even going to address that one.”

“Good. You’d better not.”

“What are you going to do? Ban me from your private club?”

“I could do worse. I could ask Angie to give you a three person performance block with Shelby and Kaylee.”

Alyssa stops laughing and goes pale. “You wouldn’t.”

Emma grins. “I could.”

Alyssa grabs her shoulders and leans in close to her, and Emma feels herself start to lose the ability to stay conscious. “Emma. If you even _consider_ that thought again, I will tell Barry that he is the greatest bartender in the world, and _you told me so yourself_.”

“You wouldn’t.”

_“I could.”_

Emma swallows as she stares into the firm determination in Alyssa’s eyes, and she hears her brain think _‘you look hot when you’re serious’_ , and she’s in the middle of trying to force herself not to say it when the door behind her swings open.

“What in the world is going on out here?”

“Angie!” Emma pulls herself out of Alyssa grip and turns, her voice a little bit too high and a little bit too eager. “Good to see you. I’m bringing Alyssa into our private club.”

Angie’s brow furrows. “Usually the regular employees don’t come back here, Emma.”

“Yeah, but I’m considering this a special case. For reasons you don’t need to know.”

Angie’s gaze shifts between Emma and Alyssa, and she smirks. “Reasons, huh?”

“Yes. _Reasons._ ” Emma reaches behind her and lightly grabs Alyssa’s wrist. “Come on. Just ignore her.”

“But she’s my boss,” Alyssa says, confused. “Hi, Angie.”

Angie grins at her, smug. “Hello, Alyssa.”

“Someone kill me,” Emma mumbles under her breath.

* * *

Alyssa lets out a soft whistle as she enters the room behind the door.

It’s a billiards room, decorated in posters of old theater companies and musicians, with a pool table right in the middle and a rack for cues in the corner. On the far side of the room, a framed painting of the Metropolitan Opera House takes up most of the wall.

“Wow,” she whispers. “How many secrets do you _have_ in this place?”

“Enough,” Emma says. “This is where the managers and I hang out on our breaks. It’s quieter.”

Alyssa nudges her lightly with her elbow, grinning. “What makes _you_ so special?”

Emma blinks at her. “I’m-”

“Hey!” Barry, on the opposite side of the pool table from them, points the cue he’s using at them. “No kids allowed!”

“Oh, give her a break, old man,” Emma yells back. She undoes her cufflinks and pushes her sleeves up before taking off her vest and hanging it on a nearby coatrack.

It’s barely a different look, but seeing Emma without her vest, standing there in her white button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, makes Alyssa’s throat go dry.

“Uhm. I know this is a silly question, I’m sure, but could I get a drink?” she asks, her voice coming out in a rasp.

“Yeah, sure. Jack Rose, or a Mary Pickford?”

“Whichever.”

Emma walks over to a small bar that Alyssa hadn’t yet noticed, and she casually spins a bottle of light rum in one hand while she picks up the cocktail shaker with the other.

No. No, this is much, _much_ worse.

Alyssa tries in vain not to stare as Emma mixes the drink for her, and she doesn’t notice as Barry leaves and Trent and Dee Dee enter.

“Emma, can I have a French 75?” Trent asks as he takes off his suit jacket.

“I’m not working,” Emma says, walking over and handing a pink cocktail to Alyssa.

He pouts at her. “You _could_.”

“Get your own drink, Oliver.”

“Oh, _fine.”_ Trent walks over to the bar. “Anybody up for a round of pool?”

Emma, Dee Dee, and Angie all groan, but Alyssa shrugs. “I would.”

Trent points at her, excitement lighting in his eyes. “Perfect. We’re going to play. Not for money, because I don’t take money from newbies, but for _pride_. Did you know that I was going to join a billiards league at Juilliard? That was before I left, of course, but for a moment there, I-”

Alyssa catches Emma rolling her eyes, and she chokes back a laugh.

“Can you just get on with the game, please, Trent?” Dee Dee asks, sitting in a comfy-looking chair and covering her face with a hand. Angie just nods and goes to the bar to get herself a drink.

“Fine, fine, yes, of course.” Trent grabs two pool cues and hands one to Alyssa. “Do you know the rules?”

“Yes. I’ve watched it played in the main room a bunch of times.”

“Perfect. I’ll let you go first, then.”

Alyssa hands Emma her drink to hold and goes to the head of the pool table. She thinks for a moment, glances at the amused look on Emma’s face, then leans down and takes a shot.

The break puts half of the balls in play into pockets.

Trent drops his pool cue, and Dee Dee sits up in her chair, suddenly interested.

“Huh,” Alyssa says casually. “Beginner’s luck?”

Angie walks over to the table and looks down at it, shaking her head. “Trent, I think you’re about to get sharked.”

“You,” Dee Dee says, pointing at Alyssa. “New girl. What’s your name?”

“Alyssa,” she, Trent, Angie, and Emma all say at the same time.

“It’s been two weeks, Dee Dee, Christ,” Alyssa hears Emma mutter.

“Alyssa, whatever. How much do you make here? Per night?”

“Per night? Three dollars.”

Dee Dee points at Angie. “Make it four.”

Alyssa blinks. “For being good at pool?”

Dee Dee shrugs and stands up. “For putting that look on Trent’s face. It made my night. You _are_ in the entertainment category, aren’t you?”

She smirks and then leaves, and Alyssa looks at Emma. “She can do that?”

Emma shrugs. “She doesn’t like people very often. So, yeah. Enjoy it.”

“Oh.” Alyssa looks at Angie, who also shrugs. “Okay?”

Trent rubs the back of his neck and picks up his pool cue. “Well. I guess it’s still your turn, though I’m already betting that this is going to end poorly for me.”

Alyssa leans down again and takes a second shot, and, with a rebound, pockets two balls at once.

Trent sighs and goes to get another drink.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alyssa sees Emma, distracted by the game, accidentally finish the one Alyssa had been drinking out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for clarification, as long as I'm understanding inflation calculators properly, that $3 a night Alyssa was making is about $45, so she's really not doing too badly for herself.


	4. though it's just a simple melody

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: You Happened_ **

* * *

Alyssa rushes into the bar and barrels through to the back hallway, panting and putting her hand on the wall to try to catch her breath. “I’m sorry,” she gasps as Angie walks out of one of the far rooms and heads towards her. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m late.”

Angie’s brow furrows, and she rests a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder. “It’s alright. We’ll just swap you and Shelby for tonight so you can go on later. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. Just was running.”

Angie continues to frown, gently taking Alyssa by the chin and looking into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re alright?” she asks softly. “You don’t have to be. You won’t lose pay if you can’t go on tonight.”

Alyssa shakes her head firmly. “I’m fine, Angie. I promise.”

“Okay. Let me know if that changes, got it?”

“Got it.”

Angie pats her on the shoulder and walks out into the front of the bar. Alyssa takes in a deep breath and heads into her dressing room.

* * *

Alyssa is rushing to get changed into her stage outfit when she hears a soft knock on her door. Without thinking, she says, “Come in!”

The door opens, and Emma freezes for a moment before looking up at the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, Alyssa.”

“I am _so_ sorry,” Alyssa says as she finishes sliding her dress on. “I answered automatically and didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late.”

“It’s… It’s okay.” Emma clears her throat, flushed bright red. “Uhm. Is it safe to move yet?”

Alyssa giggles and walks forward, pulling Emma into the room by her arm and closing the door behind her. “Yes. It’s safe to move.”

“You’re sure this time? Like positive?”

Alyssa lightly slaps Emma’s shoulder, then notices that Emma’s holding a drink in her other hand. “Is that for me?”

“Yes.” Emma hands it to her. “Water this time, though. You looked like you needed it when you ran in here.”

“Thank you. It’s freezing outside, but when you try to sprint over here it doesn’t really matter.” Alyssa downs the water in one go, and Emma takes the glass from her without being asked. “My boss – the one at my waitressing job – made me stay late today. I was really trying to get here on time, but I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You’re reliable, and we all know that.” Emma’s gaze flickers down to Alyssa’s arm, and she sets the empty glass down on a nearby table. “Alyssa,” she says softly. “What happened to your arm?”

Alyssa looks down at the thick bruise around her bicep. “Oh. I was going to cover it up with makeup once I was dressed.”

“I’m not concerned about it being covered up. I’m concerned about how it happened.” Emma pauses, and Alyssa can see the anger tightening in her jawline. “I know what a bruise from someone grabbing your arm hard enough to almost wrench it out of your socket looks like. Believe me, I know.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Alyssa whispers. “Some asshole just wanted coffee and didn’t feel like asking politely. I dropped the coffee pot I was holding and it broke; that’s why I had to stay late.”

She watches as Emma’s stares at her, eyes dark, her jaw slowly moving as if she’s trying not to grind her teeth.

“Some jackass puts his hands on you… and _you_ have to clean up the mess?” Emma says slowly, sounding angrier than Alyssa has ever heard her.

“It’s really not a big deal, Emma.”

“It can become one. Do you want me to send Dee Dee to talk to him? She can put the fear of God into an atheist.”

Alyssa laughs until she realizes that Emma is dead serious, the expression on her face not changing. She takes Emma’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Emma. I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I don’t need help, okay? I _really am_ fine. I _promise_. If I wasn’t safe, I would tell you or Angie.”

Emma lets out a soft breath and nods. “I’m sorry if I sound overbearing. I just… care. About you.” She shrugs and rubs the back of her neck with her free hand, avoiding eye contact.

Alyssa gives a quiet chuckle. “I’m glad that you do.”

“Yeah?” she breathes, lifting her gaze to Alyssa’s, and it’s so soft and _honest_ that it makes Alyssa’s heart skip.

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other for another moment, just a few beats too long, until Alyssa pulls away. “I should finish getting ready. I don’t want to be late twice in one day.”

“Right. Right. Of course. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Alyssa gives her a sly smile over her shoulder as she picks up the empty glass. “Well. You never need to be sorry for _that_ , Emma Nolan.”

The glass almost slips out of Emma’s fingers, but she manages to grip it tighter at the last second. She tugs at her collar and smiles back. “Right. Uhm. Good. Good luck. You’ll do great. You always do.” She turns and walks into the door before she manages to open it, and leaves Alyssa laughing as she picks up her makeup.

* * *

Alyssa gets back to her dressing room and sits down, the exhaustion hitting her like a brick. She rests her head on her arms and closes her eyes with a sigh, just wanting a moment to breathe before she got ready to walk home.

* * *

Alyssa wakes up with a jolt, and when she fumbles for the clock on her makeup table, she squints when she realizes that it’s an hour past closing.

“Shit,” she mumbles. She gets up and changes back into her street clothes quickly, then rubs her eyes and opens her dressing room door.

_[-the bootlegger’s daughter / and she was a terrible quince / I kissed her goodnight / where the moonlight was bright]_

Alyssa frowns, the soft sound of singing filtering in from the main room. She walks up and leans in the doorway, and her jaw drops open.

Emma is cleaning up from the night, washing glasses and wiping down the bar. As she moves around behind the bar, she’s quietly singing to herself, absentmindedly spinning alcohol bottles and cocktail shakers along to the beat before she puts them away.

Alyssa watches silently, a smile on her face, until Emma notices her and freezes, the shaker in her hand dropping unceremoniously to the floor.

Instead of saying anything or explaining, Alyssa just picks up where the song left off.

_< So I married the bootlegger’s daughter / and now I’m rolling in dough>_

Emma’s eyes widen, but after a brief pause, she joins in.

_#The way she drinks gin / is a terrible sin / but “girls will be girls” / as you know#_

_#Prohibition’s the least of our worries / for the whole bloomin’ world may go dry#_

_#Her dad made his will / and left the old still / to the bootlegger’s daughter and I#_

The song fades out, and Alyssa walks forward, sitting down on one of the barstools, smiling gently. “You liar. You told me you couldn’t sing.”

Emma fidgets awkwardly with her cufflinks. “Never said I _couldn’t_ sing, just that I don’t.”

“Well. That’s clearly not true, either.”

“I only really allow it when I’m here by myself.” Emma picks up the dropped cocktail shaker and washes it. “You caught me in one of my weak moments.”

Alyssa grins and leans on the bar, her chin resting on her hand. “What other secrets are you hiding from me? Did you go to Juilliard, too?”

Emma snorts. “No. I _can_ play guitar, though.”

“Ooh. Show me?”

“What, right now?”

“Do you have a guitar?”

Emma dries off the shaker. “Maybe.”

“Then yes. Right now.”

Emma leans forward and smirks. “Alyssa, I like you, but we are not _nearly_ friendly enough for you to get me to do that.”

Alyssa leans forward as well, also smirking. “Yeah? How do I get friendlier?”

They’re suddenly far, _far_ too close, and Alyssa is far too aware of how easy it would be for her to close the remaining few inches and kiss Emma.

She almost does it.

Emma clears her throat and pulls back before Alyssa can work up the nerve. “That wouldn’t have been a song I’d have expected you to know. I only know it because drunk guys sometimes sing it, and it gets stuck in my head.”

“I like music. I pick up songs from pretty much anywhere I can, even if I’m not planning on ever actually performing it.”

“That’s part of what makes you so amazing at what you do, I’m sure.”

“Only part?”

Emma goes to the other end of the bar to finish wiping it down. She’s far enough away, and her voice is quiet enough, that Alyssa almost doesn’t hear her mutter, “The beautiful voice and beautiful face also help.”

“Aw. I like your voice and face, too.”

Emma looks up quickly, going pale. “Uhm.”

Alyssa winks and stands up, stretching. “I should leave. I’ve already stayed far later than I should’ve.”

“Could I walk you home? It’s late, Alyssa.”

“You know what?” Alyssa pulls on her coat. “I think you can.”

* * *

“Green Acre Apartments, huh?” Emma comments as they approach Alyssa’s building. “You’re _sure_ you don’t want to live at the Madison?”

Alyssa laughs and gently shoves her. “I know everybody makes fun of them, but they really aren’t so bad. The people in there might be… _eccentric_ , but the rooms are nice. I’m on the third floor. It’s a decent view.”

“Bit pricy for this neighborhood. I can see why you’d want two jobs.”

“Oh my God, are you critiquing the _real estate market_?”

Emma holds up her hands defensively. “I’m just making conversation,” she laughs.

Alyssa shakes her head, grinning, and stops at the bottom of the steps up to the front door. “You’re ridiculous. Next you’ll talk about the weather.”

“I hear it might rain tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Alyssa plays with the collar of Emma’s wool coat, pulled up close to her neck in the chilly October air. “Emma?”

“Yeah?” she whispers.

“Do you think it would be okay if I stayed late a bit more often? Just to spend some time with… Just to enjoy the bar when it’s a bit more peaceful? My days are so busy; I could use the quiet.”

“That would be fine with me. I’m not sure how peaceful it will be with me trying to get glasses cleaned, but I’ll try my best.”

“It’s okay. You won’t bother me.” Alyssa’s voice drops. “You don’t bother me.”

They stand there, lingering at the bottom of the steps as Alyssa continues to play with Emma’s collar. Then Alyssa leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Emma’s cheek.

When she pulls back, she whispers, “Goodnight, Emma.”

“G-Goodnight, Alyssa,” Emma murmurs, wonder in her voice.

Alyssa heads up the steps and pauses at the door, looking back in time to see Emma stumble a few steps backwards, her hand coming up too her cheek, blank awe on her face.

If she hasn’t already, Alyssa is pretty sure she falls in love right in that second.

* * *

Emma watches as the door closes behind Alyssa, then lowers her arm and looks up at the building. Her heart is pounding like thunder in her ears, and she’s not entirely sure she’s breathing.

As she unbuttons her jacket, heat spiking through her skin, her attention is caught by a woman standing in the window of a third-floor apartment.

Her stomach sinks to her feet, and then her heart drops with it.

She knows the face in the window. Veronica Greene, anti-alcohol crusader, one of the leading voices of Prohibition in the city.

Third floor.

Greene.

Alyssa.

She’s not sure how she never made the connection before, but seeing Mrs. Greene here, now, staring out into the street makes everything sickeningly clear.

There’s only one reason the daughter of someone like her gets a job in a speakeasy.

Emma swallows and turns away, putting her hands into her pockets and walking back to the bar, the warmth vanishing.

Alyssa is a spy.


	5. what a lovely way to burn

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Unruly_ **

* * *

Emma is quiet for the whole first hour of her shift. The moment Alyssa’s time on stage starts, she mumbles to Barry that she’s going on break, and she disappears into the back room.

Dee Dee, sitting in her chair, squints at her when she enters. She points her glass of gin at Emma and says, “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“I know the set order for the stage. Your girl is performing.”

“She’s… She’s not ‘my girl’. She’s Alyssa,” Emma mumbles awkwardly.

“You and I both know that’s a technicality.” Dee Dee takes a sip of her drink. “Now, spill. What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted a break.”

“From staring at the beautiful girl you’re in love with? Sure. And I’m over sixty.”

Emma frowns. “You _are_ over-”

“Honey, if you finish that sentence, I’ll hit you with a pool cue.”

“I’d probably thank you right now.”

Dee Dee stands slowly. “Did she say something to you?”

“No. Honestly, it’s not…” Emma clears her throat and walks over to the bar. “It’s not her fault,” she whispers.

“Emma. You would tell me if something was going on, wouldn’t you?”

Emma pours straight moonshine into a glass and drinks it. “Yeah,” she says, staring at the door, where the soft, muffled sounds of Alyssa’s performance can still be heard. “Of course.”

* * *

Alyssa walks out of her dressing room and into the front of the bar, smiling when she sees Emma silently wiping down the bar. “Hey! I didn’t see you much today. We must’ve gotten our schedules crossed.”

Emma makes a noncommittal noise and picks up a few glasses, setting them in the sink and taking off her cufflinks so she can roll up her sleeves.

“It’s still okay if I stay here at night a few times, isn’t it?”

“Why do you want to?”

Alyssa pauses, taken aback by how exhausted Emma sounds when she asks. She stares at Emma for a moment and sees shadows under her eyes as if she didn’t sleep the night before, and her hands are trembling as she picks up another towel.

“Are you drunk?”

“I’d like to be,” Emma says softly. “It might save me some pain.”

“Pain? Emma, what are you talking about?”

“Why do you want to be here, Alyssa? Why do you want to spend so much time with me?”

Alyssa carefully leans against one of the barstools, frowning. “I… I don’t know. I thought… I-I thought…” She feels her heart crack as she whispers, “I thought we were friends.”

Emma tosses the towel over her shoulder and slams her hands down on the bar top. “Are we?” she demands, her voice suddenly spiking from soft to _furious_. “Are we friends, Alyssa? Or are you just using me so you can report back to your _mother_?”

The part of Alyssa’s heart that has already surrendered to Emma Nolan shatters into a thousand shards and plummets to the floor. “Oh.”

_“Oh?_ Is that really the best thing that you can come up with?” There’s a sound in Emma’s voice that is too close to a sob as she asks, “Have you been spying on us?”

“What? _No!_ ” Alyssa practically dives across the bar, reaching for Emma’s hand, but she pulls back as if she’s been burned. “Emma, please, you have to believe me, I would _never_ do that.”

“Believe you? Alyssa, your mother is the number one reason that we have to take so many precautions in this city. She’s been trying to find us for _years_. You expect me to just _believe_ that the daughter of Veronica Greene just _decided_ to start working in a speakeasy?” Emma comes out from behind the bar, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t have this conversation right now.”

“She asked that I do it once.”

Emma stops dead in her tracks, her back to Alyssa and her shoulders pulled up high with tension.

Alyssa swallows and takes a small step towards her. “A few years ago, she told me that if I was so insistent on being a singer, I should do something useful with it and apply for jobs that would get me into speakeasies so that I could give her the locations.”

“Oh,” Emma whispers, and there’s such a quiet note of devastation in her voice that Alyssa almost can’t continue.

Alyssa swallows and pushes ahead. “I told her that I wouldn’t. That I’d rather work a waitressing job that killed me than do that. Because I don’t share her beliefs, Emma. I don’t see the same demons that she sees when she looks at places like this. I am here because I wanted to prove my _own_ beliefs right, and I have been. Beyond even my wildest dreams.”

There’s a long pause before Emma turns, her expression blank. “If your mother finds this place,” she says softly, “I’ll go to prison. A thousand dollar fine, and a year in prison. You understand that, right?”

Alyssa waves her hand dismissively. “That’s only owners.”

Emma frowns. “Alyssa-”

“It’s beside the point, I know, but I just need you to listen to me. _I would never tell my mother._ ” Alyssa steps closer yet, and relief washes over her as Emma doesn’t step away. “I _love_ this place, Emma. I love this place, and I’m not my mother.” She takes in a long, slow breath. “My mother is… rich. She loves me, and she cares about me, but she doesn’t understand me. I don’t want her to give me everything. I don’t want to live under the regulations she sets, the belief systems she has. That’s why I work two jobs, and why I’ve been saving up money for years. I want to leave.”

She takes another step closer and swallows, her voice lowering. “I can’t live up to the image my mother wants for me. I don’t _want_ to. I just want to be _me_.”

Emma takes in a slow breath before whispering, “And who are you, Alyssa Greene?”

Alyssa lightly toys with the buttons of Emma’s waistcoat.

Then she leans forward, slowly, carefully, and kisses her.

For only a moment, Emma does nothing. Then the tension eases out of her shoulders, and she kisses Alyssa back.

It lingers, briefly, then Alyssa rests her forehead against Emma’s. “It scares me,” she admits in a whisper. “It’s scared me since my very first day. How open you and Barry and the others are able to be here. How casually everyone can just be… _them_. But I don’t want to be scared, Emma. I just want you.”

Emma rests her hand on the side of Alyssa’s neck, her thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Alyssa lets out sigh and surges forward. She grips Emma’s waistcoat and drags her into another kiss, much less gentle than their first, and they stumble backwards until Alyssa’s back slams into the bar.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbles against Alyssa’s lips, not sounding sorry at all.

Alyssa laughs and kisses her again. “You’re not.”

“No.”

They keep kissing against the bar, interrupted only by laughter and lack of oxygen, until Alyssa feels Emma put her hand against the small of her back and pull her even closer, sending a white hot shiver down her spine.

Revenge. There would be revenge, and immediately.

Alyssa leans back, getting Emma slightly off-balance, and slides her hands down to Emma’s thighs. In one swift motion, she lifts her onto the bar.

_“Jesus-”_ Emma stares at her, wide-eyed and panting. “How in the hell-”

“I’m a _waitress_. I carry trays a lot heavier than you all day long.” Alyssa grins and plays with the buttons of Emma’s waistcoat again. “This seems like it might be fun.” She kisses Emma, softly, and murmurs, “Besides. I like being close to you.”

Emma just continues to stare for a moment before stammering, “I-I’m not sure my heart will survive you, Alyssa Greene.”

Alyssa smiles, affection bursting through her. “It had better, Emma Nolan, because I don’t plan on giving you up now that I have you.”

Emma laughs, and Alyssa laughs with her, and they pull each other together again.


	6. the sun's in my heart (and i'm ready for love)

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Two Tony_ **

* * *

Barry pours gin for Dee Dee and watches as Emma stands at the other end of the bar, mixing a cocktail and staring at Alyssa as she sings.

“Kid really has it bad,” he murmurs.

“She seemed sad the other day,” Dee Dee says as she takes her drink. “Little put out. I thought something had gone wrong between them, but they must’ve worked it out.”

“You don’t think one of them finally made a move, do you?”

Dee Dee scoffs. “They’re lesbians, Barry, it’s only been about two months. They’ll either need another six years, or they’ll move in together tomorrow.”

“Technically, we don’t know about Alyssa yet.”

“I saw the way she looked at Emma when she mixed two mojitos at once last week. _Believe me_ , Barry, at the very least the girl wants to drag Emma into her dressing room and-”

Barry covers his ears. _“I don’t want to hear this about a kid I’ve known since she was three.”_

Dee Dee rolls her eyes. “Coward.”

* * *

Emma doesn’t shift her gaze from Alyssa as Angie walks up to her and leans against the bar next to her. “So.”

“So.”

“I’m concerned about you, Emma.”

Emma sighs heavily. “Why is that?”

“You just don’t seem to have enough fun with people your own age. All of your friends are middle-aged bar managers and one seasoned entertainment manager.”

“Nicely put.” Emma adjusts her cufflinks and watches as Alyssa leaves the stage. “I know what you’re really trying to do here, you know.”

Angie looks at her with mock surprise. “You do?”

“Yeah. Go ahead. Stop dancing around the subject.”

“I never _truly_ stop dancing, but if you _insist_.” Angie puts an arm around Emma’s shoulders and pulls her in close. “Instead of staring at Alyssa every night, maybe you should just woman up and do something about that little crush of yours. Hm?”

Emma smirks and gives the cocktail shaker in her hand another spin. “Maybe I will.”

Angie shakes her head and gives a disappointed sigh. “I don’t believe you. You’ll die alone at this rate.”

* * *

“Can I stay late tonight?”

Emma pulls back from kissing Alyssa’s throat and stares down at her. “Huh?”

Alyssa laughs and taps her finger against Emma’s nose. “Can I stay late tonight?”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Good.” Alyssa pauses. “You can feel free to go back to what you were doing, since that’s settled.”

Emma snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh, okay.” She presses another kiss just under Alyssa’s jaw and hears her take in a sharp breath. Instead of continuing, Emma pulls out her watch and looks at it. “You have two minutes before you have to go back out.”

“Then stop talking to me and _kiss me, dammit._ ”

“Demanding,” Emma grumbles good-naturedly before kissing her again.

* * *

Alyssa sits across the bar with a cocktail, watching Emma clean up. “How did you end up in this business, anyway? I know you said you’ve been working with the others since you were a kid, but what started it?”

“My grandmother. Before she died, she worked with them, and I spent as much time with her as I could manage until my parents…” Emma clears her throat and rubs the back of her neck.

“What happened to your parents?” Alyssa asks.

Emma gives half of a shrug. “I mean. I don’t really know? Don’t really care, either. They didn’t want me around most of the time anyway, and they _really_ didn’t like anything I did that even _seemed_ like I’d turn out gay. _Really_ didn’t. So I just kept going to my grandmothers as much as I could, and then eventually they just… left me there.”

Alyssa blinks. “Left you there? What do you mean?”

Emma shrugs again. “Dropped me off in the morning, never came back. They sent a letter to my grandmother with any paperwork I might need, and that was that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah? It’s not a big deal. I got over it by the time I was ten.”

Alyssa walks around behind the bar and puts her arms around Emma’s waist, linking her hands behind her back. “Ten?” she repeats softly. “How young were you when they left?”

“Nine. I didn’t like wearing dresses and I kept telling them that I thought girls were pretty, so I was a really stupid nine-year-old.”

“Not stupid. You were young and curious. They were too stupid to love you for who you were becoming.” Alyssa rests her forehead against Emma’s and closes her eyes.

“Where were you when I was nine?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Ugh,” Emma groans. “That was bad, even for us.”

Alyssa laughs. “Hey. Nobody’s here. Why don’t we go into that back billiards room?”

She feels Emma’s face go hot. “Uh…”

“To _play pool.”_ Alyssa shoves her away, grinning. “You already know I’m good, so you’d be accepting with full knowledge of your fate.”

“This is true,” Emma says casually. “I’m up for it.”

* * *

Emma walks into the billiards room and undoes her cufflinks, setting them on top of the bar before she hangs up her waistcoat and rolls up her sleeves.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Alyssa asks, teasing, picking up a pool cue and heading back over to the table.

“I’m willing to give it a shot. Even if I can’t beat you, it’s fun to watch you play.”

Alyssa scoffs. “Are you saying that you stare at my ass while I play pool, Miss Nolan?”

“Yes,” Emma says bluntly.

“Well, to ensure that you take your first shot without distraction, I’ll let you break.” Alyssa passes the cue to Emma.

“No, no, you can go. You’re the master at breaking, after all.”

Alyssa smirks, sets up her shot, and pockets a third of the table.

“Not bad. Not your best, though.” Emma watches as Alyssa takes a few more shots. “I hope you aren’t taking it easy on me.”

“Of course not.” Alyssa passes the pool cue over. “You’re up, honey.”

“Hm.” Emma walks over to the table, studying it for a long moment. She leans down and takes her shot.

The pool balls bounce around, loudly clacking against each other, and Alyssa’s jaw drops open as all of the remaining stripes fall into pockets.

“How…”

Emma calmly sinks the eight ball before turning to face her, balancing the pool cue in her hand. “Best two out of three?”

“I-I…” Alyssa swallows. “Did I just… get sharked _back_?”

“In fairness, you never actually asked if I could play pool.” Emma grins and resets the rack in the center of the table. “I’ve played since I was five and Barry had to hold me up to reach the table.”

Alyssa sets her jaw, challenge in her eyes. “We’re playing again.”

“Fine with me,” Emma says, still grinning.

“You break.”

“Okay. Do you want me to…” Emma trails off as Alyssa walks over to the other side of the pool table, slides her skirt up far higher on her thigh than would ever be considered appropriate, and sits down on the edge. “…..uh.”

“What’s wrong?” Alyssa asks, her voice so heavy in sweetness yet also dripping with threat. “I thought you wanted best two out of three?”

“U-Uh…” Emma clears her throat and leans over the table, her fingers trembling as she tries to steady the pool cue.

Alyssa shifts her position, her skirt sliding higher at the exact moment that Emma’s eyes wander in the middle of her shot.

Emma accidentally throws the pool cue across to the other side of the table.

“Whoops,” Alyssa says, watching it clatter at the base of the bar. “I think you get one more try and then it’s my turn.”

Emma swallows, her throat impossibly dry. “Is there any way I could surrender?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

Alyssa smiles and stretches, long and slow. “No.”


	7. your words don't mean what they used to mean

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Sombrero_ **

* * *

_< your eyes / your words / your lips / my heart>_

_< it’s over>_

Alyssa waits politely during the quick applause, then heads back behind the stage. Emma watches her go, then turns to Barry.

“I’m taking a smoke break.”

He frowns. “Since when do you smoke?”

“It’s a very long… grueling process… not sure how to light a match… just… gotta… yeah.” Emma turns and disappears behind the door into the hallway for the dressing rooms.

* * *

Alyssa lets out a breathless giggle as Emma’s back slams against the door of her dressing room. She unbuttons Emma’s waistcoat and pulls it off of her shoulders, tossing it across the room to the couch.

“I need that,” Emma grumbles against Alyssa’s teeth.

“You’ll get it back when I’m finished with you.”

“Never, then, I hope?”

Alyssa nips the point of Emma’s jaw right below her ear. “I just meant finished for this break, but yes.” She sets her hands against the door on either side of Emma and places an open-mouthed kiss where she can feel Emma’s pulse pounding in her throat.

“Jesus, Alyssa,” Emma whispers. She chases Alyssa’s mouth, pulling her into a burning kiss as Alyssa pushes her harder against the door.

There’s a sharp knock, and Alyssa curses against Emma’s tongue.

“Hey! Alyssa, do you have a second?”

“Oh, fuck,” Emma mumbles. She pulls away from Alyssa and hurries to grab her vest and put it back on. She’s still fumbling with the buttons when Alyssa opens the door and gives a huge smile to Angie.

“Hi! Sorry, Emma and I were… talking… about the song.”

Angie raises and eyebrow and looks from Alyssa to Emma and back. “Uh huh.”

“I’ll give you two the room,” Emma says, clumsily tucking her waistcoat back into her pants.

“Before you go, Emma?” Angie says, smirking.

“Yeah?”

“You should probably wipe the lipstick off your neck.”

Emma slowly pulls a handkerchief out of her back pocket and rubs her neck. She looks down at the dark red staining the white fabric, then blinks at Alyssa, who’s blushing.

“I’m… gonna go.” Emma turns, almost mechanical, and walks straight into the doorframe.

Angie gives her a thumbs up. “Good luck!”

Emma adjusts her glasses, blinks again, and leaves properly.

Alyssa swallows. “I-I… I’m sorry.”

Angie frowns at her. “What on Earth are you sorry for?”

“I-I… I know I should be… I-I… I’m working, and I…”

“Honey, your breaks are _your time_. You still do everything that you’re supposed to do, and that’s what’s important.” Angie pats Alyssa on the cheek. “Besides. It’s _really good_ to see both of you smiling so much.”

Alyssa grins, her blush deepening. “I really like her,” she says, suddenly shy.

“That’s good. She’s over the moon for you, and I say that with supreme confidence, because I was the first person she had a crush on.”

Alyssa chokes and grabs for the drink Emma brought her earlier to try to keep herself from laughing. “Wait, what?”

“Uh-huh.” Angie grins, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “She’ll deny it if you ask her, but little tiny nine-year-old Emma Nolan could _not_ shut up about how pretty I was and how nice it was to watch me dance. It was adorable.”

“Oh my God.” Alyssa giggles and covers her mouth with her hand. “This is the greatest day of my life.”

“I thought you’d like that. Next time Emma tries to be a smartass to an unbearable degree, try that one out on her. She blushes redder than a Bacardi cocktail.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“As fun as it is, though, I did not come here to interrupt your break time with the bartender. I actually came here to offer you something.”

“Oh?”

“I’d like to adjust your schedule for the stage. Instead of the three blocks spread out over the night, plus the two backup vocal slots, I want you to do five individual blocks, including the closing block.”

Alyssa blinks and sits down. “That’s the best schedule you offer.”

“Yes.”

“But… why me? I’ll have barely been here three months next week.”

Angie counts each point off on her fingers. “You show up, you work hard, you’re talented, and we like you. What else do I need?”

Alyssa rubs her hand over her face, stunned. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. And your pay goes up to six dollars a night.”

“Christ,” Alyssa murmurs.

She does the mental calculation, quickly.

She could be out of her mother’s place by the new year.

“You’re _sure_?”

Angie laughs and squeezes Alyssa’s shoulder. “Honey, I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

Alyssa swallows. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Angie says, turning to leave. “You’re the one who earned it.”

* * *

Emma walks back out to the bar, frowning as Barry smirks at her. “What’s your problem?”

“Smoke break, huh?”

“Yeah. Maybe I need something to help me relax since I spend all day with you.”

Barry grabs her around the shoulders and pulls her into an awkward hug, her back to his chest. “Aw, it’s adorable how badly you lie.”

“Who says I’m lying?” Emma grumbles, trying to push at his arm.

“Last time I checked, smoke breaks didn’t result in people buttoning their waistcoats wrong.”

Emma looks down and sees that all of her buttons are one off. “Shit.”

Barry lets go of her and watches as she fixes it. “I’m proud of you,” he says quietly.

“Huh? Why?”

“You don’t usually let yourself be happy.”

Emma laughs. “Well, that’s because it usually doesn’t go very well for me, now does it?”

* * *

Alyssa is getting ready to leave when her door opens, and Kaylee and Shelby walk into her dressing room.

“Whatever this is, I don’t have time for it,” Alyssa sighs.

“You should make time,” Kaylee says, an edge to her voice. “After all, you have _such_ a great knew schedule now, you should be able to afford it.”

Alyssa pauses before turning around, and she’s surprised when she sees that, while Kaylee is fired up and glaring, Shelby is staring at the floor like she doesn’t want to be there.

“Okay,” Alyssa says calmly. “So my schedule changed. I didn’t ask for it.”

Kaylee scoffs. “Please. Like we don’t all know what you are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kayls, maybe we should just go,” Shelby says.

“No. I want Alyssa to admit it.”

Alyssa blinks, and she hopes her confusion is on her face. “Admit _what?_ What are you even talking about?”

Kaylee’s eyes narrow, and she takes a step towards Alyssa. Her voice drops to a furious growl as she says, “You’re sleeping with your boss so that you can leverage better stage slots.”

The first thought in Alyssa’s brain is that she’s not sleeping with Emma, but a second, even more confusing thought breaks that one in half. “Wait, hold on, you think I’m _sleeping with Angie?_ ”

Shelby bites her fist to cover up her laugh, and Kaylee takes a step backwards, clearly not expecting the response. “What? No, you idiot, you’re sleeping with Emma.”

Alyssa’s brain feels like it’s jamming like a stuck typewriter. “I’m not sleeping with Emma,” she says, slowly. “And Emma’s… not my boss? Angie’s my boss. Emma’s a bartender.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head briefly. “What the hell is happening right now?”

Kaylee scoffs. “Acting _stupid_ isn’t going to make me believe that you aren’t guilty, Alyssa, it just makes you look even worse.”

“Guilty of _what?”_ Alyssa demands, a level of panic entering her voice.

“Kaylee,” Shelby says softly. “I don’t think she knows.”

“Oh.” Kaylee takes another step back, until she’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Shelby. _“Oh.”_ She blinks, then laughs. “Wow. Nolan really did it. I thought it was a joke, but she really tricked you into her bed, huh?”

“We’re _not_ … tricked me _how_? What could she have possibly done? We’re together, and I kissed her first, and she’s been as polite to me as I could have ever asked for. Why are you so upset about that, Kaylee?”

Shelby winces and closes her eyes. “Kaylee, please,” she whispers.

Kaylee ignores her and grins at Alyssa. “Wow, you’re _really_ clueless. Who do you think pays us every week? Who do you think bankrolls this place? Who do you think _owns this whole building_?”

“I don’t…” Alyssa trails off, as the implication of what Kaylee is saying sinks in. “Emma.”

“Yeah. That’s some really good talent you have there, Alyssa. It’s a shame your only achievements are coming because you keep putting your tongue down the boss’s throat.”

Kaylee scoffs at her and storms out of the room. Shelby shoots Alyssa a sympathetic look before following.

Alyssa stands in the middle of her room, frozen, until she manages to shut the door behind them so she can sit down at her makeup table and let out the sob that’s been sitting strangled in her chest.


	8. i'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Debate_ **

* * *

Emma sets the glasses back onto their shelf and glances over her shoulder, frowning.

Alyssa hasn’t said a word to her since walking out of the back hallway and asking if she could stay, on a night she wasn’t meant to.

It scares Emma straight to her soul.

“Are you okay?” Emma leans down a bit, trying to make eye contact. “Hey. Alyssa?”

Alyssa swirls her Jack Rose around in her glass, refusing to look up. “I got a new schedule today. Angie told me. Five individual blocks and closing.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Are you serious? That’s great! Do you know when you start it?”

“Supposedly, next week.” Alyssa looks up at her, eyes dark. “I’m not sure I’ll accept it, though.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Alyssa sighs, a deep, heavy sigh that shakes her whole body. “Emma. Did you ask Angie to give me that schedule?”

Emma’s brow furrows. “No. Why would I do that? Angie runs the stage.”

“You could do that because you’re my _boss_.”

Emma’s hands slip off the counter and fall to her sides. “Alyssa,” she murmurs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alyssa demands. “You don’t think I have a right to know that the woman I’m seeing, the woman I-I… a woman I’ve been making out with all over this bar, is not just my boss, but my _boss’s_ boss?”

“Alyssa, I’ve been trying to tell you since your second day here. I _told_ you that my role here was money. You didn’t believe me. Ever since, I kept trying to find ways to explain, but every time I found an opening, I got interrupted.” Emma slides her hands into her pockets. “The longer it went, the harder it was. It’s not that easy to say ‘hey, babe, by the way, I inherited six buildings, a bar, and a small fortune when my grandmother died’.”

“You just did.” Alyssa puts her hands on the edge of the bar, her knuckles going white. “I’ve spent _years_ trying to separate myself from rich people handing me things. Trying to be my own person, trying to make my way on my own merits. You _know_ how important it is to me that I be better than what my mother wants me to be, and yet here you are. Another rich fool buying my life for me.”

“Alyssa, please,” Emma says, walking out from around the bar. “I haven’t _done_ anything. Your raise from before was all Dee Dee on the fly, and this new schedule was all Angie. They know they have permission to do whatever they think is best as long as it isn’t anything drastic. You _know_ you can believe me.”

There’s a hesitation in Alyssa’s face, like she _knows_ but her heart won’t let her trust.

Emma tries to get closer, and Alyssa gets off her barstool and takes a few more steps away.

“I think I do know that,” she murmurs. “But I… You were the first person who ever made me feel _normal_ , Emma. Like I was finally getting something I wanted without a single string attached. I can’t handle more people looking at me like I’m the girl who got where she is because of the people around her and nothing more.”

“No one is going to look at you like that,” Emma insists, frustrated, trying to step closer again.

Alyssa, tears in her eyes, shoves her back. “Kaylee already does. The moment Nick and Kevin find out about us, I know they will, too. It’s only a matter of time before everyone else follows. I can’t do this.”

Emma takes a small step backwards, realization settling over her. “Alyssa,” she whispers. _“Please.”_

She can’t think. Alyssa is crying and confusion is muddling her brain and anything intelligent that she would normally have to say is gone.

Alyssa shakes her head slowly. She steps forward carefully and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Emma’s mouth.

Emma closes her eyes, then she hears the door open, and Alyssa is gone.

* * *

“Alyssa! Woman in the corner booth wants to talk to you on your break!”

Alyssa sighs heavily as she straightens a stack of menus. “Who is it?”

“Do I look like your assistant?”

She walks over to the back booth, hoping for a quick conversation so she can go into the back and find a dark corner to sit in and not think for a while.

She doesn’t expect to see Shelby, staring into a mug of coffee that looks untouched.

“Shelby?”

“A-Alyssa,” she stammers, looking up quickly. “Hi. Do you want to sit?”

“I… guess?” Alyssa sits across from her, brow furrowed, watching as Shelby taps out a nervous pattern on her mug. “Is everything okay? I didn’t even know that you knew where I worked.”

Shelby gives an anxious laugh. “Not a lot of diners near where we work, you know?” She swallows and bites her lip. “Uhm. I saw Emma yesterday. She didn’t look great. Did you, uh, did you talk to her? About what Kaylee said?”

“Yes.”

“You guys didn’t break up or anything, right, because you-”

“Shelby,” Alyssa interrupts sharply. “I don’t really want to talk about Emma, okay?”

“Yeah. I figured you maybe wouldn’t.” Shelby takes a sip of her coffee, and Alyssa notices that her eyes are dark and she looks paler, as if she hasn’t slept.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Shelby?”

She gives a strained smile. “I’m fine, Alyssa. I promise.”

Alyssa fidgets with one of the napkins on the table. “I, uh… I appreciated. That you weren’t attacking my character too. When Kaylee confronted me the other day.”

“I didn’t really want to be there. But, well, it’s Kaylee.” Shelby lets out a heavy sigh and drinks more coffee. “She doesn’t really believe that, you know. About Emma favoring you because you’re together. I think she’s just jealous of what you have, because things haven’t always been easy for us. She felt better assuming that you were getting where you were because of your relationship than knowing that you’re just… better.”

“I don’t mean to be. I know that probably sounds silly to you, but I would never want to overstep. I’m just trying to make my place.”

“You already have your place,” Shelby says with a laugh. “You have a job you’re good at, and you have a woman who thinks the world of you. That’s a lot, Alyssa.”

“I want to talk to Emma,” Alyssa admits. “I want to talk to her about what I said. What I did. I’m just not sure she wants to talk to me.”

“I think she will.” Shelby pauses. “You know that door all the way at the end of our hallway?”

“Yeah?”

“Once you’re done your shift here, go straight to work and go through there, then up the stairs.”

“Why?”

“You’ll know.” Shelby finishes her coffee and looks past Alyssa, staring blankly off into the distance. “Some days, I’m not really sure how I got here,” she whispers. “Have you ever risked your whole entire heart for a woman you know doesn’t love you back?”

Alyssa flashes back to the pain in Emma’s face as she tried to plead her case. “No,” she says gently. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Shelby scoffs out a short laugh and bows her head, not quickly enough for Alyssa not to see the tears forming in her eyes. “Some advice, Greene? It fucking sucks.”

She sets a dollar bill on the table and gets up without another word, walking away before Alyssa can ask her what she means.

* * *

Alyssa opens the door at the end of the hall, and she finds a staircase leading upwards.

Curious, she grips the railing and starts the climb, until she finds another door and opens it.

She isn’t expecting to step out onto a roof. The Madison stretches up six floors higher than the bar, but this, a small outcropping leaning over the entrance, is barely visible from the street.

Emma is there, sitting on the edge of the roof, looking out towards the setting sun.

“Hi,” Alyssa says.

Emma glances over her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting you to find this place.”

“Shelby told me about it.” Alyssa walks over and carefully takes a seat, her heart surging as she feels Emma reach out to steady her. “I, uh… I was hoping to talk to you.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me,” Emma says softly.

“Yeah, well. That was pretty stupid of me.” Alyssa sighs and leans on Emma’s shoulder, relieved when she lets her. “I have been feeling… terrible. For the past three days. And the more I thought, the more I realized that it’s _all my fault_.”

“It’s not your fault. You panicked. You’re allowed to panic.”

“I know. But I _shouldn’t_ be allowed to ignore common sense.”

Emma chuckles quietly and presses a kiss to Alyssa’s forehead. “Do you want to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What your mom did.”

Alyssa starts to protest, then closes her eyes. “When I was thirteen, I entered this dance competition. I was _so excited_. It wasn’t anything fancy, I just wanted to compete. There wasn’t even much prize money. It was just something I wanted. And I won. First place. I found out on the way home, while my mother was bickering with my father, that she had bribed the officials because she wanted me to have one good thing before my father left.”

“Oh, Alyssa,” Emma whispers.

“She couldn’t even let me try to win it on my own. She paid them before we had even gotten there. It destroyed me for _years_. I still can barely stand to dance in front of people.” She gives Emma a shy look. “Though, I’d dance with you.”

“I’m glad.” Emma looks up at the sky. “Alyssa, I have no interest in trying to make you something you aren’t. I have money. If you want a fancy piece of jewelry for Christmas, great, you got it. But I know you don’t want _favors_ , and I’m not going to offer them. I don’t want to control you, Alyssa. I just love you.”

Alyssa feels Emma tense, and she sits up, a small smile on her face. “You love me?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“I-I… uh… it’s not like… uh… I mean… uh…”

“Emma?”

Emma clears her throat, blushing. “Yes?”

Alyssa grips the collar of her shirt and pulls her in for a kiss.


	9. let me see your beauty (when the witnesses are gone)

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Bible Camp_ **

* * *

“You’re home awfully late again,” Mrs. Greene says with a frown as Alyssa walks in the front door of their shared apartment.

“Like I told you, Mother, I picked up a few late shifts. I’m going to be home late for a white.”

Mrs. Greene scoffs. “I just don’t know why you feel the need to work at that awful place anyway. We have plenty of money.”

“You have plenty of money,” Alyssa corrects. “I just want to be able to stand on my own. Like you did.”

“Honey, I worked hard in life so that you wouldn’t _have_ to. If you want me to give you money, I can-”

“No, Mother,” Alyssa interrupts, trying not to sound frustrated. “That’s not what I want.”

Mrs. Greene lets out a sigh. Before Alyssa can walk away, she says, “That’s a nice necklace.” She points to the one hanging low around Alyssa’s neck, glittery and gold with onyx and rubies. “Where did you get it?”

Alyssa brushes her fingers over it and smiles softly. “Gift.”

“From who?”

Alyssa laughs, a light, breathless laugh of reckless enthusiasm. “Maybe I picked it out myself, Mother. Who knows?” With a gentle giggle, she walks into her room, ignoring her mother’s confused and suspicious request for clarification.

* * *

Alyssa wakes from a cozy nap, cuddled up on the couch in her dressing room with Emma, disturbed by the sound of a knock on the door.

“Don’t answer it,” Emma mumbles.

“Don’t be rude,” she whispers.

“They work for me; they can come back later.”

Alyssa prods Emma hard in the ribs and raises her voice. “It’s open!”

Trent walks in, a hand over his eyes. “Is it safe?”

Alyssa laughs. “Yes.”

Emma lazily picks a shoe up off the floor, the only thing within reach of her spot trapped under Alyssa, and tosses it at him, missing entirely and hitting the wall. “No.”

Trent lowers his hand. “Wanted to make sure all was well. I heard that Angie walked in on some stuff, so I wanted to make sure I was careful.”

“She didn’t _walk in on_ \- _mmph!_ ”

“What do you need, Trent?” Alyssa asks, covering Emma’s mouth with her hands.

“Emma, actually. Someone’s trying to use a hundred dollar bill at the poker table, and I need to get it swapped for lower bills.”

“I’m sure she can- _excuse me,_ did you just _lick me_?” Alyssa looks down incredulously at Emma, who’s glaring up at her, still muted. “Trent, if you could leave that bill on the table, I’m _certain_ Emma can do whatever you need in just a few minutes?”

“Sure. I just need it swapped within the next like fifteen?”

“That can be arranged, I’m sure,” Alyssa says sweetly. “Please close the door behind you when you leave.”

Trent nods and sets the bill down on Alyssa’s makeup table. “Sure! Try not to kill her.” He beams at them both and then leaves.

Alyssa calmly removes her hands, sliding them down to Emma’s shoulders, smiling at her.

“Uh,” Emma says. “Is it too late to apologize?”

Alyssa lifts up Emma’s chin and leans down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Emma’s throat. “Yes.”

* * *

“So how do you change bills?” Alyssa asks casually, smirking as she watches Emma try to fix her disheveled waistcoat.

“We need to go to the billiards room. Up for it?”

“Are you? You’re looking a little flushed, Nolan.”

Emma narrows her eyes at her. “You know, Alyssa, I’m pretty sure that if we ever went to bed together, you’d kill me.”

Alyssa laughs, a faint blush spreading over her face. “I think that would kill both of us.”

“At least I’d have that bit of dignity,” Emma grumbles.

Alyssa kisses her on the cheek. “Come on. The money. How does it work?” She lets a tiny bit of a whine slip into her voice. “I want to know.”

Emma takes her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Let me show you. Top secret, though, okay?”

“Top secret; I get it.”

* * *

They go into the billiards room, and Emma walks over to the opera house mural. She puts her hand behind one of the edges of it, and Alyssa hears a faint _click_.

The mural swings away from the wall like a door, revealing the metal door of a safe.

“No way,” Alyssa whispers.

“It’s not _all_ in here,” Emma says as she spins the dial, entering the lock code. “I have everything spread out over about four or five different locations, just in case someone decides to break in. But not a single nickel of the fortune my grandmother left me is in a bank. Saves me from having to explain where the speakeasy money comes from, plus, she always thought it was safer.”

She pulls the door open, and Alyssa chokes on thin air as Emma steps into the small vault, cash neatly stacked in piles around the floor and on shelves. She sets the hundred on one of the stacks and changes it out for a variety of smaller bills, which she passes over to Alyssa before stepping back out.

“Think you could give that to Trent? I need to get back to the bar.”

“Y-Yeah,” Alyssa stammers.

Emma frowns at her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just. My mother has _money_ , but I’ve never seen where she keeps it or anything. And seeing it in a vault hidden behind a painting in an illegal bar is kind of.” Alyssa giggles and looks at Emma. “I’m dating the mafia.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “We’re not the mafia.”

“I might as well be dating the mafia.”

Emma closes the vault, spins the tumbler off of the last digit of her code, and puts the painting back in its place. “You’re not dating the mafia, Alyssa.”

Alyssa hugs her from behind, placing a kiss against her neck. “You _are_ pretty impressive, though, I will say that.”

Emma lets out a laugh and sets her hands on top of Alyssa’s. “I’m glad you think so.”

* * *

“You don’t have to walk me home, you know,” Alyssa says, laughing as Emma winces at a particularly cold gust of December wind.

“No. I’m doing it. I said I would.”

Alyssa kisses Emma on the nose. “You’re sweet.”

Emma grins at her, cheeks pink in the cold air. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” Alyssa says softly. “I do know that. I-.”

She’s cut off with a quiet grunt as Emma suddenly surges forward, slamming Alyssa into a shadowed doorway.

“Emma, what the _hell_?”

“Your mother,” Emma hisses.

“What?”

“Your _mother_.”

Alyssa peeks out from the doorway, her entire body going numb as she sees her mother standing on a street corner right near where they were about to walk, looking around with a frown on her face.

“Oh, God.”

“How did she know to come here?”

“I have no idea.” She looks at Emma, her voice serious. “I swear to God, Emma, I don’t know.”

“I believe you,” Emma says. “But if she sees you, we’re both screwed.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Well. We could always go back inside and try to wait her out?”

Alyssa glances at her mother again and sees her check the watch on her wrist and angrily tap her foot on the ground. “Uh, yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

* * *

“I forget that you live here,” Alyssa says quietly as Emma unlocks one of the apartments on the fourth floor of the Madison.

“We can come up here whenever you’d like, you know. We don’t just need to stay in the bar.”

“I know. But I like watching you work.” Alyssa steps inside. She’s been there once before, to play pool on a weekend her mother was out of town, but it still feels strange to be there.

“That’s fine.” Emma grins at her. “I like when you watch me. It lets me feel less bad about staring at you while you sing.”

Alyssa scoffs as she walks over to the window. “You don’t feel bad.”

“…That’s true.”

Alyssa leans against the wall next to the window, looking down at the street as her mother continues to look around. “What is she doing here?”

Emma takes off her coat and hands it on a nearby coatrack, then sets her waistcoat on a nearby chair. She walks over and helps Alyssa with her own coat. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, Alyssa. It’s going to be okay.”

Alyssa leans back, resting against Emma’s shoulder. “I’m so close, Emma. I’m so close to being able to leave. Once that happens, I don’t give a shit what she thinks of me and who I am. I don’t care if she finds out about us. But before, I… I don’t know how she’d react, and I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to sound like I’m ashamed of you, but-”

“It’s _alright_ , Alyssa,” Emma says, skimming her hand down Alyssa’s arm. “You don’t need to try to explain that to me.” She rests her forehead against Alyssa’s hair and murmurs, “I know you won’t take it. But I just want you to know. If you need to get out, all you need to do is ask.”

“I know that.” Alyssa turns her head and kisses Emma’s cheek. “And I appreciate that you would give it, even though I can’t take it.”

“If you need something, and you can’t ask me, you know you can ask any of the others, right? They’ll do anything for you, regardless of what you are to me.”

“I know that, too. When I was upset with you after finding out you’re my boss, Angie checked on me almost a dozen times every day. She said it was just because she was keeping me up to date on when my schedule would change, but I knew better.”

Emma carries Alyssa’s coat over to the coatrack and hangs it up. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine; thank you.” Alyssa sets her hat above her coat and walks over to the pool table in the middle of the apartment. “I guess if we wanted to pass the time we could play?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we could do that.” Emma joins her, leaning against the table.

“W-We could…” Alyssa trails off, staring straight ahead.

“Could what?”

Alyssa clears her throat and walks away from the table. She can feel the heat of a blush creeping up her neck, and she kicks her shoes off near the door. “Actually, you know what, I think I do want that drink.”

There’s clear confusion in Emma’s voice as she says, “Okay?” and heads for the kitchen. “You know that there’s no alcohol up here, right? All I can offer is some water, but we can go back downstairs if you need-”

“Emma,” Alyssa interrupts suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I could stay here tonight?” Alyssa asks, her voice soft.

Emma blinks and walks back to her. “Of course. Won’t your mother-”

“I don’t want to have to try to answer whatever questions she’ll have about where I’ve been, especially if she’s out here looking for me. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

“Alright. If that’s what you’d like, you can certainly do that.” Emma rubs the back of her neck. “I’ll get you something to wear, and I’ll take the couch.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the couch, Emma.”

Emma scoffs. “I’m not putting _you_ on the couch, Alyssa. Come on here. Give me some credit.”

“Emma,” Alyssa whispers, stepping closer. “I’m not saying that _either_ of us should sleep on the couch.”

After a moment, Emma murmurs, “Oh.”

“Would you be okay with that?” Alyssa asks, her voice still soft.

Emma pauses. “Can I clarify what I’m being okay with?”

Alyssa laughs, and she feels her nervousness drain out of her. “I’m asking you exactly what you think I’m asking. I’d like to take you to bed, Emma.” She leans in and kisses her slowly. “I want to sleep with you.”

“That’s still not… really an answer.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Alyssa sighs. “I’m trying to be polite here, Emma. You’re kind of ruining my attempts to be coy.”

Emma smiles and lifts Alyssa’s hand, kissing it gently. “Alyssa. Are you sure?”

“Sure enough to still be trying to get what I’m asking through your thick skull,” Alyssa mutters.

“I’m sorry. You’re very polite. It’s very respectable.”

Alyssa walks forward, backing Emma towards the bed on the other side of the room. “It’s _very_ respectable.”

“Very.”

“Are _you_ sure?” Alyssa asks softly.

“Of course.”

Alyssa swallows. “I want you.”

Emma laughs. “I’m already yours.”

“I’m yours too, you know,” Alyssa whispers.

“I know.”

Alyssa giggles and looks down, blushing. “God, we’re dancing around this, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but we always are so shy.”

Alyssa lets out a sharp laugh and surges forward, kissing Emma hard on the mouth. They stumble backwards until Emma’s knees hit the bed, and they fall onto it together, Alyssa’s hands on either side of Emma’s head and her knees on either side of Emma’s hips.

Emma takes in a soft breath as Alyssa kisses her neck. “Jesus.”

“How strong do you think your pool table is?” Alyssa pulls back, smirking at the wide-eyed expression on Emma’s face.

In a small voice, she rasps, “…what?”

“Just a thought. Don’t worry about it,” Alyssa says mildly as she starts unbuttoning Emma’s shirt.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Alyssa Greene.”

Alyssa leans back down and chuckles against Emma’s throat. “What a way to go, though.”


	10. in the hush of night

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Swallow the Moon_ **

* * *

Emma leans in the doorway, watching as Alyssa stands on the roof and stares up at the falling snow with glee in her eyes.

“Do you think it will still be snowing tonight?” Alyssa asks, looking back at Emma.

“Not sure. It might. Why?”

“I had a really romantic thought of kissing you as the new year begins, in the moonlight, as the snow falls around us.”

Emma chuckles softly. “If I can arrange it, I will.”

Alyssa beams at her before looking back up at the sky. “I always loved snow. The city washed in soft white, quieter, colder, everyone taking it all in.”

“You look happy.”

“I _am_ happy.” Alyssa walks to her and puts her arms around her waist. “Not just from the snow, though. You’ve made me happy, Emma. More than I ever thought I would be.”

“You’ve made me happy, too. More than I think I could ever explain.”

Alyssa snuggles in against her, her head resting on Emma’s shoulder. “I guess we should go to work.”

“Mm. Just another minute. Your boss won’t be mad.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. We’ll just give Angie pitiful looks, and she’ll accept it.”

* * *

The speakeasy closes early on New Year’s Eve, but the employees stay for a party amongst themselves. Alyssa sits at a barstool with a cocktail, laughing as she watches Barry and Emma compete against each other while they mix drinks with increasing amounts of flair. Hawkins is at the piano, playing an upbeat number as Angie makes Trent dance with her, and Kaylee dances with Nick.

Alyssa’s gaze shifts to Shelby, alone at the back of the bar, staring at Kaylee with an unreadable expression on her face. “Hey,” Alyssa says to Emma, keeping her voice quiet. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Emma nods, and Alyssa walks over to Shelby’s table, taking a seat next to her. “Hi there.”

Shelby flinches when she sits, but she blinks rapidly to recover and stammers, “H-Hey, Alyssa. Hi. How are you?”

She somehow looks even more tired than she did that day in the diner. Her hands are shaking, and her eyes are glassy, and she’s still pale.

“I’m fine,” Alyssa says gently. “You?”

“F-Fine.” Shelby takes a drink from her glass, and Alyssa is pretty sure that it’s nothing but pure moonshine. “Everything is fine.”

Alyssa leans closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Shelby. You don’t look fine. What’s going on?”

Shelby’s hands shake so badly that Alyssa’s surprised that she manages to take another sip of her drink. “N-Nothing. Why do you a-ask?”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Just feeling a little under the weather,” Shelby replies, giving a weak smile that she seems to think will rest her case. “I’m fine.”

“Shelby-”

“Kevin,” Shelby interrupts, waving to Kevin to get his attention.

He walks over and leans against the table, giving her a soft look. “What’s up, Shel? Do you need another drink?”

“No. I want to dance.”

Kevin’s brow furrows, concern on his face. “You sure, Shel? Maybe I should just walk you back to your place so you can get some rest?”

“I’m fine,” Shelby repeats through gritted teeth. “I want to dance.”

He nods, still looking worried, but he holds out his hand for her to take and gently leads her to the dance floor.

Alyssa bites her lip as Emma joins her, her hands lightly squeezing Alyssa’s shoulders. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” Alyssa murmurs.

The whole room applauds as Dee Dee downs the rest of her gin and gets on stage to sing. Underneath the noise, they watch as Nick briefly steps away from Kaylee to lean over and whisper something in Shelby’s ear that makes her pale even further.

Alyssa reaches up and takes one of Emma’s hands. “I’m really not sure that it is.”

* * *

Emma glances down at her pocket watch at around five minutes to midnight. She walks up to Alyssa as she talks to Trent and Angie and taps her on the elbow.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Would you mind if I borrow Alyssa?”

“You’ll have to fight me for her,” Angie jokes.

“I’ll do it,” Emma replies seriously. “You’d cheat by kicking me with those absurdly long legs of yours, but I’m scrappy. I could figure it out.”

“Ladies, I adore you both, please don’t fight over me.” Alyssa kisses Emma on the cheek. “Yes, you can borrow me.”

Emma stares Angie down, trying not to smirk, for another few seconds before taking Alyssa’s hand and leading her to the stairs.

* * *

It’s snowing.

Emma laughs as Alyssa practically skips into the middle of the rooftop, her arms spread and her mouth open to catch the falling snowflakes. “I knew you’d want to see. And I think you were saying something about kissing me in the moonlight as the snow fell, didn’t you?”

“I _did_.” Alyssa spins, beaming, looking happier than Emma has ever seen her. “I’m gonna do it.”

“Could I ask for something first?”

“Sure?”

Emma walks forward and holds out her hand. “Dance with me, Alyssa.”

“Emma…”

“I know you don’t dance much anymore. But it’s just us up here. Just you and me. Trust me?”

Alyssa’s eyes go soft. “I’ll always trust you.”

“Then trust me now. Dance with me, Alyssa Greene.”

Alyssa lets out a small breath, ghosting between them in the cold air. She moves into Emma’s space, one hand joining with Emma’s, the other going to Emma’s shoulder. Emma steps forward, and Alyssa steps back, and Emma watches with a smile as the realization hits in Alyssa’s eyes.

“Emma.”

“Alyssa.”

“Why exactly do you know how to waltz?”

“I was raised by performers, Alyssa, do you really think the idiots downstairs were going to let me reach adulthood without knowing something as basic as that?” Emma grins, but it slips back off her face when she realizes Alyssa’s crying. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Alyssa whispers. “ _Nothing_ is wrong.” She leans in, kissing Emma as they move across the roof.

“You’re crying,” Emma murmurs.

“I know. It’s not because I’m upset. I’m just…” Alyssa swallows. “I’m dancing in the snow and the moonlight with the woman I love. And, God, I just can’t believe I’m here.”

Emma smiles but says nothing, instead pressing a kiss to Alyssa’s cheek.

“Oh, God,” Alyssa whispers, and Emma can tell that she suddenly realized what she said. “I love you. Emma, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Emma replies.

Alyssa stops their movement, her hand sliding from Emma’s shoulder to the back of her neck. Her eyes shine as she says, “I love you, Emma Nolan.”

She pulls Emma in, and they kiss on the rooftop, in the moonlight and the snowfall, as the clock strikes midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's genuinely not a Carmilla reference I just couldn't find any other dance styles.


	11. you could have done better

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Tonight_ **

* * *

Emma gives Alyssa a small wave as she walks out onto the stage, then turns her attention to Kaylee, sitting at the bar. “What do you need?”

“Sidecar. Extra lemon.”

“Sure.” Emma starts mixing and glances over at the poker table, where Shelby is drinking and playing poker with Kevin and Nick. “Hey, uhm… Could I ask you something?”

Kaylee scoffs. “Depends on what it is.”

“Is Shelby okay? She really doesn’t seem to be doing too well. I feel like I shouldn’t be letting her drink.”

“She said something about some sleep troubles,” Kaylee says with a shrug. “She had them when we were kids right after her mom died, but they went away after a while.”

“It’s… kind of been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Look, why do you care so much about Shelby?” Kaylee asks, her entire body tense with hostility. “You already have one singer in your bed. You don’t need another.”

Emma pours Kaylee's drink into a glass and slides it across to her. “Kaylee, I _despise_ pulling the boss card, but I care because it’s my _job_ to care. If she needs to take some time away, I’m not going to stop paying her, okay? I’d rather she be healthy than force her to keep showing up when she’s ready to pass out.”

Kaylee looks over at Shelby, and for a brief moment Emma can see the genuine fear and worry in her eyes. “She’s fine,” she murmurs. “She’d tell me if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t she?”

“Kaylee,” Emma says gently. “I really don’t think she would.”

Her eyes harden again, and she shrugs. “Look, I’m sure everything’s fine. Don’t worry so much. Shelby’s fine.” Kaylee swallows, and there’s a faint waver to her voice as she repeats, “She’s fine.”

She takes a large sip from her drink and heads over to the table, her hand gently brushing across Shelby’s back before she sits down.

Alyssa finishes on the stage and steps down, walking over and taking a seat at the bar. “What was that about?” she asks as she takes a drink from Emma.

“I think you might be right about things not being good over there. I’m just not sure where the problems start.” Emma leans against the bartop and brushes her fingers across the back of Alyssa’s hand. “I’m starting to think that, whatever’s going on with Shelby, Kaylee’s in really deep denial about it.”

“Makes you wonder if she knows how Shelby really feels about her,” Alyssa murmurs.

“I mean, she’s still Kaylee.”

Alyssa smacks Emma’s shoulder.

“What? She _is!”_

* * *

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Barry,” Alyssa hears Emma say, as she pulls her coat on and follows Alyssa out onto the sidewalk.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just walk home by myself?” Alyssa asks as they head through the streets, side by side in the dim light.

“It’s fine. Not too busy tonight.” Emma bumps her shoulder against Alyssa’s. “Why do you need to be home early today, anyway?”

“Mother has been asking more and more questions lately. I just felt like it would be good to show her that I _can_ be home at a regular hour. Maybe it will convince her that I’m not being held hostage, or whatever the hell it is she thinks is happening to me.”

Emma snorts. “Good luck with that.”

“It’s a fool’s effort, but it’s the best I’ve got.”

They stop in front of Alyssa’s building, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind Emma’s ear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Emma asks, her voice soft.

“Of course.” Alyssa leans in, smiling, and kisses her.

They hear the door open but don’t separate in time.

_“ALYSSA GREENE!”_

“Oh, God,” Alyssa whispers. She turns, her heart dropping, and sees her mother standing on the top step of their building, hands on her hips, glaring down at them. She doesn’t break eye contact as she softly reaches behind her and pushes on Emma’s stomach. “Go.”

“Alyssa, are you sure?” Emma asks urgently, and Alyssa can feel the protective strain tugging at the edges of the words.

She wants to say something. Wants to _do_ something.

And Alyssa can’t let her.

“Please,” Alyssa practically sobs. “Please. I’ll talk to you later. Please, you have to go.”

Emma sets her hand against the small of Alyssa’s back, briefly, then she takes a few steps backwards, turns, and hurries off down the street.

Mrs. Greene watches her go, her eyes cold. “Alyssa,” she says, her voice unnervingly calm. “Get inside.”

“Mother-”

_“Get. Inside.”_

Alyssa swallows and walks up the steps, past her mother, and into the apartment building.

* * *

Emma slams her way into the bar with enough force that the entire room goes silent. She stands there, breathless, fury making her clench her hands into fists.

“Out,” she growls.

“Emma,” Barry says cautiously, setting down the cocktail shaker in his hand. “What’s going on?”

_“Everybody just get the fuck out!”_

The handful of patrons that have stuck around into the later hours of the night glance at each other, confused, but they all choose not to argue as they get up and file past Emma and out of the bar. She runs a hand through her hair, staring across the room at nothing.

Dee Dee approaches her slowly, her glass of gin abandoned on top of the piano. “Emma. What’s going on?”

“She saw,” Emma whispers.

“What? Who saw what?”

Emma shakes her head slowly. “She saw. She knows.” Her voice cracks, and she leans back against the door. “Oh, God, she knows.”

She slides down to the floor and covers her face with her hands.

* * *

“Whatever you’re going to say,” Alyssa growls as she storms into the apartment, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m going to say it anyway,” Mrs. Greene yells, slamming the door behind her. “On the _street_ , Alyssa? In front of my own building? I expect so much better from you!”

“You expect it, Mother, but I can’t give it! I can’t be whatever it is that you’re so determined for me to be, because I _can’t do it!_ I _don’t want it!_ I don’t want to be you, and I don’t want to be a naïve little socialite who marries a rich man and does nothing but look pretty at parties for the rest of my life! I want to be _happy!_ ”

“Happy?” Mrs. Greene scoffs. “You think you can be _happy_ with _her?”_

Alyssa lets out a half-crazed laugh. “I already _am_ happy with her! I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life!” She shakes her head and heads towards her room. “You know what, Mother, I’m done. I’m just done. I’ve been preparing to leave for years, and I might not have everything together yet, but I am _close enough_. I am _done_.”

* * *

Emma makes her way over to the bar once Dee Dee drags her up off of the floor, and she downs the drink Barry passes her without even looking to see what it is.

“Kid,” he says, his voice quiet and serious. “What is going on? Are you okay? Where’s Alyssa?”

“If her mother has any say in it, she’s probably being shipped off to a reform school in New Jersey,” Emma says miserably, grabbing another cocktail and drinking it all.

Barry looks up at Dee Dee, then over at Angie, Trent, Sheldon, and Hawkins as they join them. “Mrs. Greene found out?”

“Stupid,” Emma mutters. _“Stupid._ It’s too early. We shouldn’t have kissed; we should’ve known someone could have seen us. We’re just too stupid for our own good.”

“Hey,” Nick says, coming out of the back with Kevin. “If everybody’s gone, can we go home? Are we still going to be paid?”

Emma groans and runs a hand over her face. “Please, Nick, can you just shut up for five minutes?”

He snorts. “What are you crying about? Did Alyssa finally wise up and dump you?”

“Nick,” Trent says sharply. “That’s enough.”

Emma stands up and walks over, standing between him and Kevin. “Get out, Nick. I swear to God, get out, because right now I’m angry enough to _put_ you out.”

* * *

“Alyssa, please,” Mrs. Greene says, following her as Alyssa tosses her suitcase onto her bed and starts haphazardly shoving clothes, a few keepsakes, and the hatbox she’s used to hide cash into it. “You can’t go. You don’t understand what you’re doing. That girl, she’s not right for you. She’s not the right kind. She’s-”

Alyssa scoffs and slams her bag closed. “I know, Mother, she’s a woman.”

 _“-a_ _dealer of alcohol, the devil’s serum.”_

“…What?” Alyssa blinks and shakes her head. “Actually, you know what? I don’t even want to know.” She shoves her way past her mother and towards the door, but she freezes a few feet away from it and slowly turns back around. “Mother,” she whispers.

Mrs. Greene stands in the doorway of Alyssa’s room, panic on her face.

“How do you know that Emma is a bartender?”

* * *

“Nick, man, can we just go home?” Kevin asks, nervously glancing between him and Emma.

Nick ignores him, still glaring at Emma. “She knows who you are. She’s never going to let the two of you be together. It doesn’t matter if she has to come here and drag Alyssa back home; that woman will _never_ let her daughter end up with someone like _you_.”

Emma’s brain goes blank.

The words feel significant, but she can’t process the _why_ only the _what_.

She feels her hand clench into a fist.

And then make contact with Nick’s face.

 _“Emma!”_ Barry yells from the other side of the room.

Nick punches back, and she’s honestly surprised that it’s rather soft, and she falls back against Kevin, who catches her easily.

“Nick, what the _hell?”_ Kevin says, sounding scared.

“We’re leaving,” he snarls. “Kevin, come on.”

“What? No.”

“Kevin. We’re _leaving_.”

Kevin steadies Emma, a hand resting on her shoulder until he’s sure she’s solidly on her feet. He blinks at Nick, shock in his eyes. “Nick,” he says quietly. “I want to stay.”

Nick glares at him for a long moment, and when Kevin does back down, he says, “You’ll regret it just like the rest of them.” He turns on his heel and storms out the door.

* * *

“Mother,” Alyssa says again, staring across the apartment at Mrs. Greene. “How do you know she’s a bartender?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Greene replies, waving her hand dismissively. “What matters is that she’s not good enough for you, and your time with her is finished. Put your bag down, Alyssa. Stop being dramatic.”

Alyssa stares at her for a long moment, her breathing slowly calming.

She tightens her grip on her bag, turns, and walks out the door.

* * *

“Stop whining and put the ice back on it,” Dee Dee snaps, pushing the cloth back against Emma’s jaw.

“It’s cold,” Emma grumbles, glaring up at her.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be having that problem if you hadn’t punched someone in the face,” she scolds. “You can’t just get into a fight in the middle of an illegal bar, Emma.”

“Like you didn’t want to punch him, too.”

Dee Dee sniffs. “I would’ve slapped him, because it’s more proper.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Sure you would’ve.”

Angie walks into the room and tosses her coat onto the pool table. “I told Kevin that he could go home, reassuring him multiple times that he wasn’t going to lose his job just because his friend is an idiot. Barry, Trent, Hawkins, and Sheldon are outside, because they’re men and they’re stupid and they probably assume Nick is going to come back and try to start something.”

“I don’t think he’ll do that,” Emma says quietly. “But I do think he’s more than just an idiot.”

Dee Dee frowns at her. “What do you mean?”

“What he said about Mrs. Greene. If that’s true, the only way he could’ve known that is if he told her.” Emma laughs, then winces and pushes the ice more firmly against her jaw. “I thought that Alyssa was a spy and never even considered one of the others.”

“Do you think he told her where we are?”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “If he did, wouldn’t she have shut us down by now? I suppose the concern is if he’ll do it now to get back at us. It might be worth it to consider moving to one of the other locations soon, just in case.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Dee Dee pushes her shoulder until she’s lying down on the couch. “Now would you _please_ get some sleep?”

“I don’t want to. I want to go see if Alyssa is okay.”

“Her mother will probably call for the police if you try to go there. Sleep, and we will figure out what to do in the morning.”

“I’m not tired,” Emma yawns.

Dee Dee glares at her. “If you lie to me like that again, I’ll dump this ice down the back of your shirt.”

Emma squints at her. “You’re mean.”

“You’re difficult.”

Emma lets Dee Dee take the ice from her and closes her eyes. “Maybe just five minutes.”

* * *

Angie leans against the pool table, watching Emma sleep. “I don’t know what to do for the kid,” she murmurs. “For either of them.”

Dee Dee takes a sip of gin and gently pushes a lock of hair off of Emma’s forehead. “We’ll figure something out. We have to. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

Angie laughs. “Something like that. Though I would’ve hoped that-”

Dee Dee sits up straighter on the couch. “Alyssa?”

Alyssa is standing in the doorway of the billiards room, a suitcase clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles are white.

“I-I was wondering if… if I could talk to Angie a-about getting one of the rooms… upstairs,” she says. “I-I, uh… I sort of, uh… Maybe ran away from home? I think? A-And I, uh… I don’t know… I-I don’t know what I… uh…”

Angie walks over to her silently. She gently raises Alyssa’s chin and meets her gaze. “Honey,” she says softly. “You always have a home here, no matter what. Okay?”

Alyssa’s suitcase hits the floor with a thud, and she bursts into tears, falling forward and hugging Angie tightly. “I don’t know what to do,” she sobs.

Angie looks over her shoulder at Dee Dee, who shakes her head silently and brushes her hand through Emma’s hair again. “It’s okay,” Angie murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Alyssa’s head. “I promise. It’s going to be okay.”


	12. freedom is mine (and i know how i feel)

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Stone_ **

* * *

Emma leans against the door of the apartment Alyssa is now in, on the second floor of the Madison, watching as Alyssa fusses with where to put the small amount of items she grabbed from her mother’s place.

“I-I have all the money saved up,” Alyssa stammers as she neatly folds a skirt. “I was in the process of figuring out how to talk to my mother, so I-I’m not… this isn’t completely out of the question. I wasn’t… I guess it’s a little strange emotionally, but…”

Emma continues to listen in silence as Alyssa rambles, unfolding and refolding every items multiple times before she puts them into her dresser.

She’s about to take everything back out of the dresser when Emma softly says, “Alyssa.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Alyssa visibly relaxes, the tension in her face calming. “I love you, too.”

“What do you need me to do?”

She pauses, thinking, then walks over to Emma and sets her hands against the door on either side of her. She kisses her, long and slow, and murmurs, “I want you to let me take you to bed.”

Emma presses a kiss to Alyssa’s forehead. “Then take me,” she whispers.

Alyssa lets out a soft sigh and briefly rests her head on Emma’s shoulder. Then she grips the front of her shirt and pulls her towards the bed.

* * *

Emma flips her cocktail shaker in the air and watches as Kevin performs one of his tap numbers. As she pours the drink into a glass, Shelby joins her at the bar.

“Can you get me a sidecar with extra lemon?”

“Yeah, sure.” She watches as Shelby taps an impatient rhythm against the counter. “Drink too much coffee today?”

“Whatever,” Shelby replies absentmindedly. She takes the drink from Emma and suddenly makes eye contact, allowing Emma to see a deep, unsettling pain. “Thank you, Emma. I really appreciate it.”

The words feel like they’re meant to mean something else, and Emma nods awkwardly. “Uhm. You’re welcome?”

Shelby, her hands shaking, takes the drink and walks over to meet Kevin as he gets off the stage.

* * *

Alyssa walks over to Trent, passing a small stack of bills over to him. “Emma told me to give this to you.”

“Thanks!” He hands it over to one of the players at a table, then pats her on the shoulder. “How have you been holding up?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Pretty understandable.” Trent puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes her in a quick one-armed hug. “You need anything just let me know, okay?”

Alyssa lets out a quiet laugh. “I think I have a pretty big list going for that, but I promise I will.” She watches as Kevin delivers a drink to Kaylee. “Do you think… Never mind.”

“Go ahead,” Trent prompts gently.

“Do you think my mother will ever forgive me?” she whispers.

Trent takes in a deep breath. “I think that you are not the one who needs forgiveness. And someday, maybe, your mother will understand that you’re worth more than the false image she wants you to be.”

Alyssa leans against him and closes her eyes. “I certainly hope so.”

* * *

Emma is cleaning off one of the glasses when Barry walks up to her, frowning. “Hey. Do you know where Alyssa is?”

“She should be in her dressing room,” Emma replies. “Why? What’s up?”

“Angie needs her for something.” He shrugs. “Lord knows what she’s cooking up. You know how she gets.”

Emma snorts. “Yeah. I’ll go take a look.”

* * *

She steps into the back hallway and runs directly into Angie, who looks stressed.

“What’s going on?” Emma asks, concerned.

“Something’s wrong with Kaylee,” Angie says, shaking her head and biting her lip. “I thought she was just being dramatic, but she threw up, so I believe her.”

“Jesus. What’s the plan?”

Angie runs a hand through her hair. “I’m going to talk to Shelby and see if she can handle going on. We’re cutting it thin without Nick around, and-”

Alyssa walks in from the stage, frowning when she sees them talking in a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“Kaylee’s sick,” Emma says.

“Sheldon’s getting her a cab.” Angie pulls Emma’s pocket watch out of her pocket and glances at it before putting it back. “Alright. I’m going to go check in with Dee Dee quickly. Alyssa, can you find Shelby? I need to see if she can go on in Kaylee’s place.”

Alyssa nods. “Sure. I’ll go to her room before I get changed.”

“Thank you.” Angie squeezes both of their shoulders and heads back out to the front.

“Well, if I can’t find Shelby, I know somebody else who can sing.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma says immediately.

Alyssa snickers. “You’re no fun.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Alyssa gives her a quick kiss. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I already know that.” Emma presses a kiss to her cheek. “See you later.”

Alyssa winks at her. “See you later.”

Emma squeezes her hand and goes back to the bar.

* * *

Alyssa knocks sharply on the door of Shelby’s dressing room. “Hey, Shelby? Shel! Are you in there?” She tries for another few minutes, then frowns and heads back to hers. “Weird,” she mumbles.

When she gets to her own dressing room, she pauses, and she swears that she hears crying. Alyssa sets her hand on the doorknob and opens the door, stepping in cautiously.

Shelby is sitting on the floor in the corner, her knees hugged to her chest, crying.

“Shelby?” Alyssa keeps her voice soft and gentle as she walks closer. “What are you doing in here?”

“She’s going to hate me,” Shelby whispers, staring off into the distance at nothing. “She’s going to hate me, but I had to. I had to get her out. I _had_ to. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

“Get who out, Shelby?”

“I didn’t have a choice. I swear to God, Alyssa, I didn’t have a choice. She didn’t let me. She didn’t give me a choice.” Shelby’s eyes lift, and Alyssa is struck by the desperation in her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Alyssa,” she sobs. “I’m _so sorry_.”

Alyssa shakes her head slowly, confusion overwhelming her. She starts to ask what she’s sorry for, but the words die in her throat.

The lights start to flicker.

* * *

Emma drops the shaker she’s holding when the door to the bar bursts open at the same time that the lights begin to blink. Her entire body goes cold as police officers enter the bar, and the sound in the room vanishes.

There’s a small noise from behind the officers, and Mrs. Greene pushes her way to the front.

Emma sees Alyssa rush out of the hallway as Mrs. Greene looks directly at her, raises a finger to point, and says, “Her. The girl behind the bar.”

“Mother,” Emma hears Alyssa rasp. “Please, no.”

The lead officer approaches Emma and asks, “Miss. Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“No,” Barry says quickly. “I am.”

_“We_ are,” Dee Dee yells from the other side of the room.

Barry pushes his way to Emma’s side. “We’re the owners, Officer, so if you-”

Emma closes her eyes and takes in a breath. When she opens them, she looks directly at Alyssa as she says, “Stop.” Alyssa is staring at her, scared, and Emma looks away before she loses her nerve. She turns and meets Barry’s gaze, and whispers, “It’s okay.”

She can see his jaw clench, fear and anger in his eyes, but she just looks back at the officer and says, “Yes, sir. This building is under my name, this bar is owned by me.”

He nods, looking grim. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Emma takes in another small breath and walks out from behind the bar.

She can’t bring herself to risk looking at Alyssa again before she’s escorted out the door.


	13. i'll always think of you that way

**_Today’s Speakeasy Entrance Code Is: Promenade_ **

* * *

The patrons leave first, quickly, eager to avoid any potential additional arrests.

Everyone else stands in silence, taking it all in as the police confiscate every drop of liquor that can be found in the bar. Sheldon walks down the steps as they exit, and, when Mrs. Greene is the only one left, he stammers, “I-I’m sorry. They came in when I was helping Kaylee into her cab. I couldn’t get to the warning in time.”

“It’s not your fault, Sheldon,” Dee Dee says. “It’s _hers.”_ She lunges in Mrs. Greene’s direction, and Hawkins grabs her around the waist, just barely holding her back.

Mrs. Greene stares her down. “You people – you _criminals_ – have no standing to be upset with me. You brought this on yourselves.”

“Why?”

They all turn to look at Alyssa, whose voice is small, but carrying well in the quiet room.

Mrs. Greene frowns. “What?”

Alyssa swallows as if she’s trying to bite back her anger. “Why would you do that?”

“You’ve refused to listen to sense, Alyssa, I had to show you-”

 _“I love her!”_ Alyssa screams, taking several steps forward towards her mother and silencing her. “I might be refusing to listen to sense, Mother, but you’re refusing to listen to _me!_ You are so caught up in your hatred for a place that is bringing people nothing more than a handful of drinks and a little bit of entertainment that you won’t even acknowledge that for once in my life I was _happy!”_ She takes in a sharp, ragged breath and continues before her mother can interrupt. “I finally had something that was mine. Somewhere I could feel safe, and loved, and like I actually belong, and you deliberately took that away from me out of _spite.”_

Mrs. Greene is shaking her head now, a horror in her eyes that Alyssa wasn’t expecting. “Honey, no. No, I would never do anything to spite you. I’m doing this to _protect_ you. Can’t you see? These people are dangerous. That girl is dangerous. This is what’s best for you.”

 _“Best for me?”_ Alyssa laughs, a high, half-sob of a laugh that suddenly drops to a whimper. “Mom,” she whispers. “All you did was break my heart.”

Mrs. Greene takes a small step back. Her eyes flicker over to the hallway door as Kevin steps out, guiding Shelby as she sobs against his chest. “I…” She looks back to Alyssa and murmurs, “I think it’s time I leave.”

Alyssa says nothing.

Mrs. Greene turns and heads for the door, stopping before she heads up the stairs. Without turning around, she says, “For what it’s worth. Handing herself over like that was rather noble of your bartender.”

Alyssa flinches and closes her eyes, and when she opens them again her mother is gone.

* * *

There’s a few more minutes of awkward silence before Angie looks over at Kevin and asks, “Is Shelby okay?”

He gives a helpless shrug and says, “I found her like this.”

Alyssa swallows and steels herself, then, her voice incredibly calm, says, “Kevin. Could you help Shelby come over to this table, please? And Angie, if you could get her a glass of water?”

Shelby is shaking so badly as Alyssa sits down that Kevin has to hold her hands to steady her to help her take a drink. He looks scared as he pulls up a chair to sit next to her, one hand resting comfortingly on her knee and the other holding her water.

“Hey, Shel,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. What’s going on?”

Shelby stares at the table and whimpers. “I’m so sorry, Alyssa. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Why don’t we talk about it first?” Alyssa prompts, gently reaching across the table and taking Shelby’s hands. “What did you do for my mother?”

Dee Dee, released from Hawkins’ grip, narrows her eyes. “What?”

“Be quiet,” Alyssa snaps over her shoulder, too harshly, but she sees the understanding settle over Dee Dee.

Alyssa turns her attention back to Shelby and lowers her voice again, still calm, still soft. “Shelby. Let’s start somewhere else, okay? What did you do to Kaylee tonight?”

“Had to make a distraction,” Shelby whispers, still staring at the table. “Had to get Sheldon away from his desk. And I-I wanted her out. I wanted her away. Didn’t want to risk her being here. I was scared. I knew if I just put a little bit of ipecac in her drink it wouldn’t hurt her but she’d be sick enough to leave.”

“How did you know when you needed to do this?”

“Your mother. She meets me sometimes after we close, out on the corner. She told me she wanted to shut us down to send you a message. A-About how dangerous the bars are.”

Alyssa swallows, a memory of a better night for a very different reason flickering through her.

“N-Nick saw us once. T-That’s h-how he knew, that night Emma punched him. He wanted Mrs. Greene to give him a job like she gave his parents, but I don’t have that kind of pull with her. I-I think that’s why he liked dancing with Kaylee so much. He knew it bothered me.”

“Shelby. This is important, okay? I need to know. I need to understand.” Alyssa squeezes Shelby’s hand and leans forward. “Why? Why did you help her?”

Shelby takes in a short, stuttering breath. “We were so stupid,” she whispers. “Kaylee and I. I’ve known her as long as I can remember, and I’ve loved her almost just as long. We had a little space rented off to the side of one of the marketplaces, just trying to earn some money with our voices while we figured out what to do with our lives. And I… _stupid_.” She closes her eyes. “I was _so stupid._ A distant cousin of mine offered me some moonshine to sell in there, and I said yes. I was there by myself one day when your mother showed up and busted me. It was so obvious. _Too_ obvious. Too stupid.”

“What did she do?”

“The place was rented under Kaylee’s name. Mrs. Greene told me that if I didn’t help her, she’d fine us both and put Kaylee in prison. I-I… I can’t…” Shelby makes a strained noise of dismay and looks up suddenly, making eye contact with Alyssa. “Alyssa, I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry. I chose the woman I love, and I cost you yours.”

She breaks down, setting her head down on the table and sobbing.

Alyssa sets a hand gently on Shelby’s hair.

“It’s not your fault, Shelby,” she murmurs. “It’s okay. I understand. It’s not your fault.” She glances over her shoulder. “Angie. Do you think you and Kevin could get Shelby upstairs and keep an eye on her? I think she really needs to rest.”

Angie nods. “I think you’re right.” She walks over and sets her hands on Shelby’s shoulders, guiding her to her feet with Kevin’s help. “Come on, sweetheart,” she says. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Once they’re gone, Alyssa rubs at her eyes and says, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Dee Dee.”

Dee Dee walks over to her and squeezes her shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” Alyssa asks miserably. “Having a mother who ruins my entire life?”

“No. For having the strength to be kind to that girl when I’m sure a pretty large part of your heart didn’t want to.”

Alyssa leans back against her. “Shelby didn’t want to do this. I can see that as easily as I can see any of you.” She sighs. “I just don’t know where that leaves me.”

Barry glances at Trent, who nods. “Well. We’re going to open up shop again.”

“What do you mean?”

Dee Dee pats one of Alyssa’s shoulders. “Emma was in the process of getting one of the other locations ready after the incident with Nick. It’s almost set up. All it needs is a staff. We presumably still have Kevin, and, as long as we get some sleep and confidence in her, we should still have Shelby. Kaylee, too, as long as she’s not offended by basically being poisoned by her own girlfriend. You can come, too? If you’re interested?”

Alyssa pauses as the fantasy settles over her, the thought of being able to stay with the one group that has truly felt like family to her. She soaks it in, embraces it.

Then lets reality crush it.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “I don’t think I could survive a year of this without Emma.”

Dee Dee’s grip tightens on her shoulders, and she feels a quick kiss on the top of her head. “That’s okay,” she says softly. “It’s your choice.”

Trent walks over and crouches down next to Alyssa’s chair. “Promise me something?”

Alyssa nods, her throat tight.

“Stay in the apartment upstairs. Keep in touch. If you need anything – _anything_ – you just ask. Nothing is going to change in that respect. Understand?”

Alyssa nods again, and she feels the tears well up in her eyes. “I don’t know how to live with this in my heart, Trent.”

Trent pulls her towards him and hugs her. “It’s not your fault, kid.” He squeezes her, ignoring the tears and makeup now staining his suit jacket. “I swear to God, it’s not your fault.”

* * *

Alyssa steps out of the Madison on the way to her waitressing job and pulls her coat tighter as the wind hits her. She turns to walk down the street and pauses, recognizing the woman standing on the sidewalk, looking up at the building with a blank expression on her face.

“Kaylee?”

She jumps, startled, then turns. “O-Oh. Hi, Alyssa.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was just…” Kaylee blinks. “I-I don’t know, honestly. I just… I needed to think.” She puts her hands in her pockets and looked back at the building. “Are you going back to work? At the, uh, the other place?”

“I don’t think so. Are you?”

Kaylee sighs. “I don’t know.” She lets out a soft, strained laugh. “It’s a little hard to wrap your head around it when your best friend drugs you, you know?”

Alyssa pauses, then blurts out, “She loves you.”

Kaylee looks back at her, surprised. “What?”

“Shelby. I know it sounds insane, but she did it because she loves you.” After another pause, Alyssa awkwardly adds, “I-If you. Didn’t know. How she feels.”

“I do,” Kaylee says softly. “I’ve known that much for a while.” She shrugs and averts her gaze. “I’m not sure that I’m really worth a stress-fueled nervous breakdown, though.”

“She thinks you are.” Alyssa turns, her own gaze going up to the small rooftop of a moonlit dance, barely visible from the street. “Kaylee, I have no business getting into yours. But if you don’t love her, just tell her. It will save you both a lot of suffering.”

Kaylee sighs. “I never said I didn’t love her,” she says. “But I do wish she would’ve told me what your mother was putting her through.”

“I think we both wish that.”

She’s surprised when Kaylee holds out her hand. “I’m sorry. That I get to be here and Emma doesn’t.”

Alyssa shakes her hand. “You know what? I’m not. Because I don’t think Emma would be willing to accept a trade.”

“Does she have a sentence yet?”

“I don’t know. Barry won’t let me go over there. He says that Emma doesn’t want me to have to live with that. I know she’s pleading guilty, for whatever good that will do.”

“Well. From one criminal to another, I’ll wish her the best, then.”

Alyssa swallows. “Thank you, Kaylee.”

Kaylee nods and turns, walking off down the street.

* * *

Alyssa throws things around her apartment, mumbling curses under her breath. A week. For a whole week, she hasn’t been able to find her-

“Dammit,” she grumbles. “Of course.”

Her cloche hat is exactly where she left it a week ago, in her dressing room in the now-abandoned speakeasy downstairs.

Alyssa sighs and heads down the stairs, shouldering open a door that moves just a little bit too easily.

Suspicious, Alyssa moves cautiously into the bar. It’s quiet, which is what she expected, but there’s something a eerily _still_ about it.

As if the entire room has been waiting for her.

With a shudder, Alyssa walks into the back and grabs her hat, then hurries back into the bar.

She freezes when she hears the metallic creak of the safe door opening in the billiards room.

She knows the sound. She’s heard it several times, when Emma has taken her to exchange bills for the poker table.

Common sense tells her to leave.

Reckless curiosity sends her down the hallway and into the billiards room.

The safe is open. She can see someone standing just inside of it, hunched over one of the stacks of bills. They’re in brown dress shoes and brown pants, with a light blue dress shirt and brown suspenders, and, from the way they’re standing, Alyssa can’t see their head or their face.

Alyssa grabs one of the pool cues and approaches cautiously, far braver than she should be in the situation, and swings it at the person’s back.

They start to turn just in time to see the swing, and they drop to the floor to avoid it.

_“Jesus Christ!”_

Alyssa drops the cue, then her hat.

She has a very quick thought that she’s not sure she’s ever seen Emma in clothes that weren’t her uniform, and then her brain goes blank.

Emma is on her back, on the floor of the safe, staring up at her with wide, scared eyes.

“Okay,” Emma says weakly. “I guess I should’ve come to see you first.”

Alyssa, her breathing ragged with an anxious adrenaline, squeaks out, _“Did you break out of prison?”_

Emma blinks at her. _“What? No!”_

_“WHY ARE YOU IN YOUR SAFE?”_

_“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?”_

They stare at each other for a long moment, both taking in deep breaths, then start laughing. Alyssa slumps against the safe door and slides down to the floor to sit.

“Oh, my God,” she murmurs. “What the hell is going on?”

Emma pulls herself off of the floor and into a sitting position, her back resting against a shelf. “Well,” she says carefully. “As it turns out. There are a few variations on sentences you can get if you plead guilty and get a judge on your side.”

Alyssa’s eyes widen. “Oh, God. Did you bribe a judge?”

“What? No.” Emma squints at her. “I think we need to have a conversation about exactly what kind of criminal you think I am.”

“Later. Please continue.”

Emma swallows and pulls her pocket watch out of the pocket of her pants, toying with one of the dials. “Uhm. I-I’m… I’m not sure what happened. If you had some sort of conversation with your mother, or if she hit her head, or if God spoke to her directly, or what. But she was on my side, Alyssa.”

Alyssa is silent for a long moment. “What?”

“She recommended that I not go to prison, and it… I can pretty much guarantee that that’s what got the judge to agree not to. I have a hell of a fine to pay to make up for it, but I… once I do that, I’m free.”

Alyssa stares at her, the words processing slowly. “Wait. You… You’re not going to prison?”

Emma grins at her. “I’m not going to prison, Alyssa.”

Alyssa swallows. “Oh my God.”

“I came here to get the money I need to pay my fine. I figured that I would do that first, get it out of the way, and then I’d deal with winning you back.”

The words hit Alyssa right in the heart. Her voice and eyes are both soft as she says, “Win me back?”

Emma shrugs and looks away. “Kinda figured you wouldn’t want to date an actual convicted criminal.”

Alyssa gets to her feet. “Emma,” she says, her voice measured. “Stand up.”

Emma does, looking wary. “Why am I-”

Alyssa grabs the suspenders and uses them to yank Emma forward, kissing her hard on the mouth. She turns them slightly to push Emma against the door of the vault, kissing her even harder, and only lets up when she knows they both need to breathe.

“So,” Emma gasps. “Does that mean you’re okay with it?”

“That means I’m okay with it _and_ I think you should wear these more often.”

Emma swallows. “Noted.” Looking a bit dazed, she says, “Do you want to go work at a speakeasy again?”

Alyssa laughs, careless and happy, and kisses her again. “Please pay your fine first. If you go to prison now, I might actually kill you.”

“That seems fair.”


	14. life's just around the bend

**_January, 1934 – Five Years Later_ **

* * *

“Kevin, can you go unlock the door?” Emma tosses the keys across the bar to him, and he catches them easily as he spins and jogs to the entrance.

“Are you nervous?” Alyssa asks, coming up to her and handing her a drink.

“More that people won’t be able to afford it. I don’t want to expect too much from them.”

Alyssa tugs on Emma’s suspenders and kisses her softly. “They came here when it was illegal. They’ll come here now. Besides, I think people could use a little entertainment.”

“Mm.” Emma lets her eyes wander, openly looking Alyssa up and down. “It’s a bonus when the entertainment looks like you.”

Alyssa lightly smacks her shoulder. “Behave, or I’ll make you go up on that stage.”

“You still don’t have that kind of sway, Miss Greene.”

“Don’t I?”

Emma tries and fails not to smile. “I can pretend if I want to.”

“You can. It might be risky for you, though.” Alyssa leans forward and whispers something into Emma’s ear that makes her choke on her cocktail.

“Jesus, Alyssa,” Emma says, her voice hoarse. “I’m going to have to work for hours with that in my head.”

“I know.” Alyssa kisses her on the cheek and smirks. “Maybe you’ll learn something.”

Emma snorts and watches Alyssa walk away. “Unlikely.”

* * *

Emma throws a cocktail shaker across the bar to Barry, who catches it easily and empties the contents into the glass of the patron closest to him. She laughs and dodges out of the way of Kevin, swing-dancing Angie across the floor to a jazzy song Hawkins is playing on the piano with vocal assistance from Dee Dee on the stage.

“Hey, Trent! Can you remind Kev and Ang that showing off their mutual dancing skill needs to be further away from people they can accidentally kick?” Emma asks with a laugh, high-fiving him as she passes him on the way to the dressing rooms behind the stage.

“If people are concussed, maybe they’ll pay more,” Trent jokes as he goes to intercept his coworkers.

Emma pushes open the door to the back hallway and rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh. “Guys. Seriously? Can it wait?”

Shelby pulls away from Kaylee, breathless, and gives Emma a bright grin. “Oh, come on, boss, we don’t go on stage for another hour.”

“Then can you at least take it to one of your dressing rooms? Even I was more subtle than this.”

Shelby laughs, high and happy, and Kaylee grabs her hand. Giggling, they pull each other back towards Kaylee’s dressing room, fumbling and closing the door with a slam.

Emma shakes her head. “Honestly,” she mumbles.

* * *

Alyssa looks up as the door to her dressing room opens and closes, Emma stepping inside with a soft smile on her face.

“Hi,” she breathes.

Alyssa grins. “Hi.”

“You almost ready?”

“Yeah. It feels strange, somehow. I know it hasn’t been that long since we shut down the Band Closet, but it still just… feels like it’s been such a long time.”

“I know. It’s different for me, too.” Emma steps behind her and rests her hands on Alyssa’s shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “I think… I think it’s because, for the first time since before we ever met, it’s _real_. People can come here and enjoy themselves, and we can be happy here, and we’re not breaking the law to do it.”

Alyssa leans back against her and closes her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I still think naming your bar ‘The Greenhouse’ was too far, though.”

Emma laughs. “You can think what you like. It’s staying and you can’t do anything about it.” One of her hands moves down, fingers lightly brushing against the necklace around Alyssa’s throat, glittery and gold with onyx and rubies. Emma’s voice is soft as she murmurs, “Is this…?”

“Yes,” Alyssa whispers.

Emma tilts Alyssa’s head back and kisses her, gentle and slow. “I love you,” she repeats as a mumble against Alyssa’s lips. “Go knock them dead.”

“If we kill them, they can’t come back.”

“Maybe just a few black eyes, then.”

Alyssa grins and holds Emma in place, kissing her a few more times before she lets her go. “You’d better be watching me when I get on that stage.”

Emma beams at her as she backs up towards the door. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”

* * *

_< Moon river / wider than a mile / I’m crossing you in style / someday>_


End file.
